My better half
by dianaclaudia
Summary: Sam and Dean meet their female selves. Emma and Melody Bennett. Doppelgangers. Also hunters. Also hunted by angels. (Emma and Melody are my original characters. Double pairing later in the story. SEQUEL available)
1. Prologue

Everyone reaches that one point when they need saving. They may not know it. They may not seek it. They may not want it. Dean Winchester surely didn't. Ironically enough, he had been saved enough times to know the feeling. He had been pulled out of hell, he had escaped purgatory, he had been cured of his demonic self. Yet he knew he was a broken man. He knew he was beyond saving. He was a slick son of a bitch, that was for sure, having tricked death so many times, but actual saving, the one he needed like he never knew he did, that much he couldn't dare to hope for. They were lost, him and Sam. This life had ruined them and they were beyond redemption by now. They were both aware of it.

Yet there's always hope, even for those who are hopeless. The Winchesters had no idea. But there was a part of them, powerful enough, stubborn enough to break through, and independent enough to guide them through the thick darkness within themselves.

As they were riding in the Impala down the streets of Crawford, Colorado, struggling to figure out what it was that was doing all those killings, they were completely clueless to how the road was leading them straight into the greatest plot twist of their lives.

"Dean, there's no reason at all to believe that there's any supernatural activity here, we've been over this," Sam tried to reason with his brother for the hundredth time. "We followed every lead and I'm telling you, this town's clean. It's got a touch of insanity, but it's human insanity."

"I know," Dean answered. "But the omens of demonic activity were what caught our attention in the first place, Sammy. And a trail of sulfur? That's a lead. So we ain't leaving until we've literally followed every lead."

Would things have gone differently if Sam could've convinced Dean to just move on from Crawford, Colorado? Would they have never crossed paths with the Bennet girls? Would they have ever found their salvation?

As they parked in front of a cheap motel and they got out of the car, the smell of rotting eggs hit them harder than they had ever felt before. Sam shot Dean a look that admitted that he was right and that this was really a lead. Although there had been no signs of demons these past few weeks during their research and interrogations, this screamed demon. The trail of sulfur crystals they had followed led them to the room 13. A demon with a sense of humor, the boys thought. They pulled out their guns out of their belts and kept them out of sight, then they knocked on the door, having no clue whatsoever that what waited for them on the other side would change their lives for good.


	2. Chapter 1: They come in pairs

Their names were Emma and Melody Bennett. Hunters. Staying at a cheap motel in Crawford, Colorado, room number 13. Having just completed a well done job and moving on to the next one.

"You got everything?" Emma asked her sister, tucking a gun in the belt of her jeans.

Melody sighed. "Almost," she answered, looking around. "Okay, there it is." She picked up her favorite pocket knife from between all the papers lying on the table, left behind like every single time after the thorough research of a case, then hid the knife in her boot.

"I'll clean this up," Emma pointed at the papers. They couldn't afford leaving trails. "You go find a car and I'll meet you in the back in ten."

"I thought you'd never ask," Melody bounced. "I've already got my eyes on a nice Mustang in the parking lot. Ya know. Since I've yet to convince you that motorcycles would be a better option."

Emma sighed loudly and glared at her sister. "Melody, for the love of—"

"Yes, yes, I know, grandma," the younger one rolled her eyes. "I was just sayin'."

It was easy for Emma to forget how her sister was. At 21, Melody felt the need to live her best years like Emma never had. Mel was restless and the adrenaline of hunting was only amplifying this urge to be the 'badassest' she could be. Sure, getting into the business had been half circumstance, half choice at the time, and while Emma was pretty cool with it, although she wished she could go back to the quiet life she was living five years ago, Melody was really digging the feeling. The motorcycle thing was something Emma should've seen coming actually, seeing as her little sister was constantly complaining about having to steal cars.

Just as Melody was going to walk out the door, the girls heard a knock that made them both look at each other wide eyed. They had specified when they had booked the room that they didn't want to be disturbed under any circumstance, so there was no one who would've had any reason at all to knock on their door. And whoever wanted to get a hold of them wouldn't have bothered knocking.

Emma motioned with her head for Melody to stay out of sight and went for the door. Under the reassurance of feeling the cold barrel of the gun pressed against her lower back, she opened the door and saw two men. One of them was really tall, with long (admittedly sexy) hair, and the other one was a little shorter, with spiky hair and the greenest eyes she'd ever seen. Her first though was that they could've been hunters, but then she felt the gagging smell of rotten eggs. Sulfur. Demons. She gulped and forced a sweet smile at them.

"Can I help you, gentlemen?"

The shorter one shot her a wicked grin.

"Hi," he began in a deep, husky voice, that would've made Emma's stomach flip hadn't it been for the circumstances. "We were wondering if we could have a word with you."

Emma quickly took in the scene and tried to come up with a strategy. Given by their stance, they were good fighters and there was a high chance they had weapons. But so did the girls. She couldn't fight them in the doorway and Melody still had the element of surprise on their side. So she forced another smiled and stepped aside so they could come in.

"Sure," she said. "Please, do come in."

As soon as the door was closed behind the guys, Emma decided not to waste another second and make the first move, so she pulled out her gun and pointed it at the short guy. As soon as the gun was in the air, the tall one had another one pointed at her head. Luckily enough, Melody stepped out and the tall guy found himself facing her own gun. They were all trapped. If it hadn't been so intense, it would've been pretty funny.

They glared at each other for a couple of minutes, and then the shorter one chuckled nervously.

"Well, this is awkward," he said, and Emma shot him a bitter grin.

It was clear that all of them were considering options and finally, the tall one spoke up.

"How about we all go for the holy water at the same time?"

Emma glared, and then considered it. She would later think about how, if they had really been demons, they could've killed the girls in an instant and wouldn't have given much thought to these technicalities. But under the pressure, she nodded and she and her sister reached for the nearest bag, just as the two guys searched their jackets.

Emma pulled out the holy water flask just in time to see that the shortie had pulled out a gun, too, and he had it pointed at her. Also, Melody had somehow gotten her knife and she had it pressed against the shortie's neck. Was Emma the only one who decided to play by the rules? She glanced at the tall one, whose confused expression mirrored hers as he held a holy water flask in his hand.

"Well," Emma said, her gun still pointed at the shortie. "This isn't going very well."

The tall guy smirked a little, nodding as he splashed Emma with holy water in the face. She closed her eyes, taking it all in. Hunters got splashed with holy water a lot.

"My turn," she commanded as she threw holy water in his face and he didn't even flinch. Well, that was surprising. She turned to the shortie and did the same thing, yet nothing happened, the poor guy looked just as done with the holy water procedure as the girls were.

The tall one looked at Emma with a smug expression on his face, before splashing Melody. Melody hated that part with all her might. One of these days, she was going to react really badly if she felt another drop of holy water on her skin again, and some hunter might actually take her for a demon. She sighed and turned to the gigantic dude with a smile on his face.

"Okay," Melody broke the silence. "Glad we cleared this up."

Yet none of them moved for a couple more minutes. Finally, Emma sighed and gave in, raising her gun and her other hand in the air as a peace offer.

"Fine," she spat. "Guns down. Let's talk."

Emma and the boys put away the guns and Melody, her knife, but she still had her own gun pointed at the shortie.

"Not so fast, pretty eyes," she said. "Silver test."

The shortie rolled his eyes, but pulled out a silver knife and made a deep cut into his forearm, and then the tall one did the same. The girls exchanged a meaningful look. Every single male hunter they had encountered felt this need of making a big, deep, painful cut, perhaps out of the testosterone of their hearts. So when the shortie handed Emma the silver knife, she took it with a smug smile on her face and made a small cut along her thumb, so that it wouldn't bleed a lot or hurt like crap. When Melody cut herself and handed the shortie his knife back, they all visibly relaxed. All the guns were put away and it became pretty obvious that there was some explaining to do.

"Huh, sorry 'bout that," the shortie shot them a dazzling grin that the girls rolled their eyes at. They were used to hunters hitting on them. "The sulfur outside your door was pretty convincing."

Emma sighed. That was true. "Tell me about it," she mumbled.

"I'm Sam Winchester," the tall one introduced himself. "This is my brother, Dean."

He was going to say something else, when Melody cut him off, narrowing her eyes.

"Winchesters," she said. "Of course."

Sam and Dean exchanged a look.

"I take it you heard of us," Dean said.

"Hell yeah," Melody answered. "Five years ago when we arrived in the U.S., there was a pretty huge fuss about you guys starting the apocalypse."

The boys looked a little ashamed, obviously not cool with talking about this, so Emma broke the silence.

"I'm Emma Bennett. She's Melody, my little sister."

Dean was still wearing that boyish silly grin on his face.

"Also sisters, huh?"

Sam nudged him, catching a hint that the girls were clearly oblivious to. But their inner sense told them they'd rather stay oblivious to it.

"I take it you're the hunters who took care of the demons around here, right?" Sam asked them.

The girls shared a confused look.

"There weren't any demons. It was a shifter," Emma answered.

"Are you sure?" Sam frowned. "There were some huge omens of demonic activity around here. We spent two weeks here and basically everything pointed to demons. Hence the ambush."

"No, it was definitely a shifter," Melody leaned on the table. "We took care of it last night. We were just going to take off when you guys busted in."

"Hang on, Rapunzel, that's impossible," Dean tuned in, taking a step forward. Rapunzel? Sure, Melody had these long, golden curls hanging loose down her back, but Rapunzel? "It's just like Sammy said. We spent the last two weeks digging and dragging our asses through every single piece of supernatural information we could get our hands on. We talked to nearly every single person who was even remotely related to these murders and we never had a reason to believe it was a shifter. There are clearly some demons sons of bitches out there."

Emma and Melody exchanged worried glances. They were quiet for a couple of minutes and the boys were watching them trying to process this information. Why would there be omens of demonic activity with no demons around? What was with the sulfur outside their door? The girls were hundred percent positive there weren't demons around. It was almost like the boys had been lured to them. Like…

Suddenly, the realization hit them both.

"It's a trap," Emma whispered, both her eyes and Melody's widened in panic.

"A trap?" Dean repeated. "What do you mean a trap?"

The girls ignored them and started gathering their stuff, reaching for the door.

"There's no time," Emma shouted. "We have to leave, now!"

But no sooner did she open the door than she saw him. Standing there, just like the girls remembered him, cruel and merciless, smiling at them. Raziel.

**A.N. Here's the first chapter :D I really hope y'all like, so let me know what you think. I'm open to any kind of feedback :) I'll try to post the second chapter as soon as I can**


	3. Chapter 2: Catch up

Dean could recognize an angel when he saw one. And this guy, with his carefully smoothed hair and flash white grin and stylish suit, was definitely one of those dicks. The girl, Emma, was frozen when she saw him in the doorway and she took a few steps back.

"At last," the angel looked her straight in the eyes and told her. "I've been looking for you for a long time."

Dean heard Emma drawing in a sharp breath.

"Raziel," she whispered. Raziel. So this was the douche's name. He was new to him, but the girl clearly knew him, just like he knew her.

Raziel freed Emma's gaze and he glanced at the rest of them, smiling when he saw Sam and Dean.

"Ah," he smiled widely. "I had my hopes up for finally catching the Bennet girls, but the four of you, together? This was a good day."

"Who the hell are you?" Sam asked fiercely.

"Why, didn't your little friends tell you?" Raziel mocked them. "I guess you'll have plenty of time to catch up on the way."

Two more angels came into the room and the boys could see Emma back of a little, focused and tense and it occurred to them for the first time that these girls, short and pretty, were really dangerous hunters.

"We're not going anywhere with you," Emma spoke aggressively, and then she turned to her sister. "Melody, now!"

Out of nowhere, the boys saw Melody pulling away the curtains to reveal an angel-banishing symbol. She put her hand in the middle of it, in a movement pretty familiar to them, and in a flash of light, the angels were gone. After that, they were all standing there, completely stunned, breathing heavily, until Melody's laugh broke the silence.

"Ha! Bet you didn't see that coming, you dickheads!"

Sam and Dean couldn't help but smile a little bit, but Emma seemed even more alarmed than before.

"Come on," she urged. "We have to go, they'll be back."

Although the boys were more than eager to hear the explanations behind these stories, it was pretty clear that they couldn't stick around and wait for the angels to come back, since there was no doubt the four of them were their target. Dean and Sam led the way to the Impala and the girls didn't dare to have any kind of objection, since they were running low on time and couldn't steal a car right now. They climbed in the back seats and Dean took off a moment later.

"What the hell was that?" he asked no later than a couple of seconds after they left. "Who the hell was that guy? How did he know you and what do we have to do with this?"

The girls were quiet for a minute and Dean was going to demand some more answers in a less mannered way, when Melody spoke.

"That guy was Raziel. They guy who tried to kill us five years ago, the reason we left our family and the reason we're on the run right now."

Silence fell in the car again. The boys knew about death and leaving the loved ones behind and being hunted themselves, but they still didn't know what to tell the girls. Somehow, it was different.

"Okay," Sam spoke softly eventually. "We clearly have a lot to talk about."

"Yeah," Dean agreed. "Like how'd he find you now and what's this all have to do with us?"

Emma chuckled humorlessly.

"You're the Winchesters. Somehow, everything's related to you, isn't it? And I have no idea how he found us. We have some cloaking symbols carved into our ribs and they did a hell of a job keeping us hidden all those years. But I bet it has something to do with the demon omens and the sulfur and you guys."

Emma saw Dean studying them in the rearview mirror.

"You have cloaking symbols carved into your ribs?"

"Yeah. Why?"

Dean didn't answer her question directly, but she swore she heard him say something like, 'Definitely a lot to talk about'.

"Okay," Sam said after a few more moments of heavy silence. "It's clear we have to catch up. How about we stop in the next town and grab something to eat?"

The girls both sighed.

"Sounds like a plan," Melody agreed.

A couple of minutes later, she added, "Man, I wish I'd gotten my hands on that Mustang, though."

She saw Dean grin at her in the rearview mirror.

"Hey, shut your piehole, Rapunzel," he teased her. "My baby gets jealous."

"Is there anything I can get you, sugar?"

Sam and the girls all rolled their eyes at the slutty waitress whose undivided attention was on Dean only, ignoring the rest of them shamelessly. Dean, however, didn't seem to have any problem whatsoever with this and delivered the poor girl his best smile.

"Plenty," he wiggled his eyebrows of her just when Sam nudged his ribs. He cleared his voice. "How about a piece of your best pie?"

She bit her lip and wrote that down, not making any effort to hide her lame attempts to flirt.

"Make that two," Melody told her, craving for a piece of pie herself.

Sam and Emma ordered some rabbit sandwiches and some coffee and the waitress wrote it all down, never taking her eyes off Dean. This was getting exhausting. Under normal circumstances, the girls would've been slightly amused by this whole exchange, but they had more important matters at hand. The boys' presence was indeed an inconvenient for them, but for now, they had yet to figure out what linked the four of them and why would Raziel be interested in the Winchesters. Although, Emma thought, they were the Winchesters. Every supernatural being was interested in them. These two hunters were like walking magnets for dramatic conflicts and having heard of the whole apocalypse thingy, she was sure they weren't the angels' top favorite humans.

"So, let's rewind," Sam spoke up as soon as the waitress brought them the food and walked away swaying her hips in a way that made Dean stare and the girls gag. "What happened with Raziel?"

Melody was already busy with her pie, so Emma started to tell the boys a story she'd rather had forgotten years ago.

"Five years ago, we were living in U.K. I was in college in London and Mel was a sophomore in our town's high school, in Hastings. We had a great family. Our parents had the perfect marriage and they adored us. I had a boyfriend I was sure I was going to marry one day."

She sighed and noticed that even Dean had stopped chewing and both of them were watching her intensely. Emma had heard the stories. The boys had been raised into this life. Their mother had died when they were little and their father had become a hunter, dragging them along with him. But with her and Melody, it was a whole different story. They knew well enough what they had lost. They had to give it all up and leave it behind.

"But one time five years ago, when all of us were at home," Emma continued. "The angels came. Raziel. They told us there was a war coming and that we were needed. We had no idea who they were and what they wanted and refused to go anywhere with them, so they threatened to kill our parents. So, naturally, we agreed. It wasn't even an option. If their lives were on stake, ours wouldn't matter."

"That's when this weird angel appeared," Melody tuned it, her mouth full of pie. "He zapped us to an airplane headed for the U.S. We have no idea who he is or why he did what he did, but he saved our lives. Carved the cloaking symbols into our ribs then went back to save our parents."

Sam and Dean exchanged a confused glance.

"What'd he look like?" Dean asked.

Melody shrugged. "Couldn't get a good look at him. It all happened in the blink of an eye and he stood behind us most of the time."

"Then how do you know he went back to save your parents? How do you know he saved your lives?" Sam asked the next logical question.

"Because he left us a note," Emma explained. "Sort of. In my pocket, as soon as we landed. It said that the angels wanted to use us and that he could no longer be a part of that. He explained the cloaking thing and he told us that we needed to start a new life, as discreetly as possible, as far away as possible from that mess. That he erased every one's memory of us back in U.K."

Her voice broke a little with the last sentence and she could see Dean flinch with the corner of her eye. She wondered if they ever had to do something like that to anybody. Completely remove themselves from their lives. Melody took over when it became clear that her sister couldn't keep going without letting slip away a few tears and they had a policy of not crying over it. Hell, they wouldn't even let themselves think about it most of the time.

"So, basically," Melody took over, "we found ourselves alone, in a foreign country, no money, no clothes, no one to count on."

"So you decided to take up hunting," Dean mocked. "Because that was the smart thing to do."

"Nobody asked you, pretty eyes," Melody mocked back and caught glimpse of Sam fighting a smile at his brother's almost hurt expression.

Emma sighed. "We had just found out angels were real. We had been friggin' teleported. We went from perfect life and perfect family to having nothing at all and being no one. We didn't even have identities. As a matter of fact, you guys are the only people who know our last name is Bennett and that was a slip on my behalf, trust me. But could you live with knowing the supernatural exists and not do a single thing about it?"

Dean shifted in his seat and avoided her scrutinizing gaze. She was right. They had tried before to escape the hunting life, but no one could really sleep peacefully at night knowing what's out there.

"Besides," Melody continued. "We were too scared to settle down in just one place. We needed to keep moving in order to feel safe. We always say us joining the hunting squad was half circumstance, half choice."

"But did you ever find out what Raziel wanted with you two?" Sam asked.

"No idea," Emma answered. "Five years ago, their big war was the apocalypse. But trust me, we've followed tons of leads and none of them got us even remotely close to finding out what part we were supposed to play in their game."

"And there's little chance of ever finding out," Sam admitted. "They played lots of dirty games back then and you could've been pawns in any of their schemes."

Emma shrugged and took a sip of her coffee, clearly unwilling to keep talking about this.

"So what's with the demons, huh?" Dean asked. "There's still this lil' problem to figure out."

"Actually, I kept thinking this through," Sam answered. "The four of us are cloaked to angels, right? It's a long shot, but assuming they really wanted to find you, they could've had a demon on your tail, leading them straightly to you."

"Oh, come on, Sammy," Dean snapped, throwing the fork on the empty plate in front of him. "Angels working with demons? That's twisted on too many levels. There's no way."

"Actually, I was thinking the same thing," Emma admitted. "As illogical as it may sound, it's kind of the only reasonable explanation. Oddly enough."

"The real question is," Melody narrowed her eyes. "What do you guys have to do with this whole story? That's what I'd like to know."

Dean leaned in over the table and looked her fiercely in the eye, clearly not missing what she was implying. But Melody stood her ground.

"You and me both, Rapunzel," he mocked and she rolled her eyes.

"I don't think it was such a big deal," Emma spoke. "You guys said you followed the trail of sulfur. Maybe having you there was just a huge coincidence."

"No, I don't think so," Sam disagreed. "First of all, four hunters just happening to run into each other on a case? That's some pretty big coincidence in this business. And second of all, Raziel mentioned the four of us together. There must be some relation, something we're missing."

The four of them sighed. Too many pieces of this puzzle were missing.

"Let's just go back to the bunker and we'll call Cas and we'll figure this out after a good night's sleep," Dean suggested. "This job exhausted us all and I'm sure it'll be better once we clear our heads."

"What bunker?" Emma frowned.

"It's just a place built by a secret organization called the Men of Letters," Sam explained. "It's basically an underground fortress that we pretty much made our home."

Dean smirked. "It's our Batcave."

Melody and Emma shared a look. They were doing that thing that thing that the boys recognized because they were doing it themselves most of the times, when they understood each other without words. It was half fascinating, half frustrating to see someone else do it.

"Er, thanks," Emma smiled politely. "But, um—"

"But we work alone," Melody finished for her. "We always have. We have no idea what this is, but we know it's bad. And when things get bad, we do what we do best. Run like hell."

Dean chuckled humorlessly.

"I don't think you understand, Rapunzel –"

"No, pretty eyes, _you_ don't understand –"

"Okay, okay," Sam raised his hands in front of him when it became clear that neither Dean nor Melody were going to hold themselves back. "Melody, Emma, please. You really don't know what you're up against. These guys don't give up so easily. You're can't go walking around until we figure this out and find a way to both keep you safe and fight back."

Emma rolled their eyes.

"See, this is where you're wrong. We don't need to be kept safe. We're doing just fine."

They exchanged another quick look that the boys didn't catch and in a tiny second, their plan was all made.

"Now if you'll excuse us, gentlemen," Emma mused and they both got out of the booth where they were sitting. "We've got places to be. Business to take care of, say, on the other side of the country."

Melody put her hand on Dean's shoulder and leaned in, smiling as he narrowed his eyes at her.

"It was a pleasure to meet you, pretty eyes."

They walked out of the diner without looking back, leaving Sam and Dean behind, the older one muttering 'women' under his breath.

"Whatcha lookin' at?" he snapped at Sam when he saw him staring with his most glorious bitch face.

Sam sighed.

"Didn't you notice anything?"

Dean looked around dumbly.

"What?"

Sam rolled his eyes and waited for his brother to figure it out. A few seconds later, Dean's eyes widened.

"Dude," he whispered. "Where are my car keys?"

Sam half smiled seeing Dean freak out. The Bennett girls should've known better than to mess with his brother's baby. That was a capital crime.

"Dude," Dean growled. "Bitch stole my car keys. I'm going to kill them both!"

**A.N. Okay, maybe it's because I'm super excited about this, but here you go. Second chapter, within a day from posting the first one. Man, I surely hope I'll keep up with this pace. So, how'd you like it so far? Watcha think of the Bennett girls? I really hope you like it! And I'll get to writing the next chapter asap. Lots of love!**


	4. Chapter 3: The great almost escape

"Dean—"

"I said hurry up, Sammy!"

"Dean, calm down and listen—"

"They've got my baby, Sam, don't you tell me to calm down!"

Sam and Dean reached the parking lot, the first one chuckling to himself and the latter seeing red before his eyes, only to find the Bennett girls sitting in the front seats of the Impala, flushed, breathing heavily and wearing defeated expressions on their faces.

It was a good plan. Damn it, it was a friggin' great plan. Simple and flawless, Emma thought. Then Melody managed to snatch Dean's keys and everything would've gone smooth and simple. Easiest car theft they'd ever had. But no. The simplest car theft in their hunting career couldn't have possibly gone smooth. They got into the Impala only to find out that they couldn't even start the engine.

"Come on, come on, come on," Emma mumbled under her breath as she turned the key into the ignition one more time. Nothing happened. "Come on!"

"What happened?" Melody asked nervously. "Just take off already before they realize what we did!"

"I know, I know, but I can't. It won't start."

And then they saw Dean and Sam getting out of the diner. And Dean was practically fuming.

"Shit," Melody hissed. They were busted.

"Get out of my baby right now!" Dean raged, and the girls had no choice but to obey. They had blown their chance at friendly conversations.

Emma caught glimpse of Sam juggling something in the air. She couldn't see what it was, but it was definitely a part of the car. She widened her eyes as the pieces clicked together in her head. The bastard had seen it coming.

"Son of a bitch," she muttered, seeing his smug smile.

"That's what Dean and I would've done if we were you," he mused. "I thought it's better to be safe than sorry."

The girls looked at him in shock and even Dean was a little surprised. Clearly, the idea of taking precautions and disabling the car hadn't even crossed his mind.

"What the hell were you thinking?" he resumed yelling. "Nobody lays a hand on my baby! You should know that. You touch my baby, you die!"

Emma and Melody rolled their eyes. Who would've thought Dean Winchester was such a drama queen? Besides, there was nothing they could say at the moment. They had been caught red handed, something that had never happened before, and they had to admit they felt a little ashamed.

"Okay, okay, we get it," Emma raised her hands in front of her, surrendering. "We're sorry. We just…"

"Oh, you're not sorry yet, short stuff, but you will be," Dean threatened.

Emma resisted the urge to roll her eyes again at the overly dramatic reaction. And the nickname was something she should've seen coming, considering he already called Mel Rapunzel, but she was still tempted to punch him in the gut for calling her short stuff. Sure, she was shorter than Melody and the Winchesters were both absurdly tall, but it still bugged her. However, she had just tried to steal his car, so she bit her tongue against any snarky comment she might have had coming.

Dean circled the car, opened the trunk of the Impala and then he returned with two pairs of handcuffs.

"What are you—"

She didn't get to finish her question because Dean slipped one handcuff around her wrist and the other one around his.

"What—?" Emma stuttered, too shocked to form a coherent sentence. "H—have you gone mad?"

He tossed the other pair to Sam, who moved towards Melody in order to do the same thing, but Melody took a few steps back and pointed her finger threateningly at him.

"Don't you dare, big guy," she hissed.

"Look," he watched her amused. "We can do this the hard way, or you can fight me and lose."

Melody considered fighting him and _win _for a few seconds, but she knew the odds weren't exactly in her favor. So she sighed and gave him her hand. Emma, on the other hand, had no intention of going quiet.

"Let me go, Dean Winchester, or I swear to God—"she was struggling irrationally to escape, since there was no other way to do that than the key to the cufflinks, and heaven knew where Dean kept it.

"Or you'll what?" he mused. "You'll probably hurt yourself. Either way, you're going with us. And I'm not letting you outta my sight, you little troublemaker, ya hear me?"

Emma groaned.

"Okay. Fine, we're going," she concealed. "Just— Just un-cuff me, okay?"

"Not gonna happen," Dean smirked.

"Fine. Then at least cuff me to Melody."

"Why? So you can come up with a new escape plan? I know how your mind works, short stuff. Mine and Sammy's work just the same."

She groaned again and admitted there was no way out of this. So she pouted and got into the car (which was uncomfortable enough, considering she was cuffed to Dean). Sam and Melody climbed into the back seat, too, after Sam did his thing and put the little piece back under the hood of the car. Emma wasn't surprised to see Mel's expression mirrored hers. The whole situation was a pain in the ass for both of them.

"Stop sulking," Dean told them as soon as he pulled out of the parking lot. "It's a long drive."

"How long?" Melody asked from the back.

"The bunker's in Kansas."

The girls groaned and went back to sulking. This was really not planned and they didn't even need to see each other's faces to agree that they needed a better escape plan. Think it through more thoroughly. But they couldn't stay with the Winchester. It was too risky, both for themselves and for the boys. A couple of sulking moments later, Melody spoke up.

"If we've still got such a long drive ahead, you could at least get us some good music."

Dean rolled his eyes, but complied, since he felt the need himself. He turned on the radio and was rewarded with his favorite song. Led Zeppelin's "Ramble on". Finally, something good in such a shitty day.

"'Atta boy," Melody smirked at him and she saw him fight a smile, too, in the rearview mirror.

It was a really_ really_ long drive. The only conversation that had been going around consisted of casual music comments exchanged between Dean and Melody and Emma's complaints about how her arm was going numb after having to follow Dean's as he was driving. But the son of a bitch had no intention of releasing her anytime soon. Melody eventually drifted off, her head falling on Sam's shoulder, and Emma was surprised to see a faint blush coloring his cheeks. She could tell by Dean's smirk than he wanted nothing more than to tease his brother about him, but Sam's glare shut him up. Emma, on the other hand, having her arm dragged along the whole time, couldn't get a single minute of sleep, as exhausted as she was.

After what felt like an infinite drive, they arrived at the bunker. Sam nudged Melody, who woke up confused at being so awkwardly close to him, and Dean and Emma hardly managed to crawl out of the car, still cuffed to each other.

"Ladies," Dean started. "Welcome to the Batcave."

But really, all they saw was a solid door that was more likely to lead to an actual underground cave rather than to a fortress, so they looked pretty skeptical. Until they entered it, that is. Because it was truly amazing. It was huge and badass and it gave them this weird feeling of security. But they shook it off quickly, refusing to let it grow on them. After all, they couldn't stay here.

The boys led them into some sort of a living-room wanna-be, but at a closer look, Emma decided it was more like a library, full of books and weapons and with tables in the center. Dean stopped and turned to Emma, a little key between his fingers.

"Can I trust you?" he asked her, watching her warily.

Absolutely friggin' not, she thought. She'd take any chance she had to take her sister and run and if the boys claimed to know how they were thinking, they should've known that. But also, she couldn't let Dean know that. So she prayed he wouldn't see through her shitty acting and put on a serious face that she hoped Dean would buy. She nodded slowly and, although he didn't look particularly convinced, he un-cuffed her and handed Sam the key to do the same with Melody.

"I'll hit the books and see if I can find anything useful in the Men of Letters' archives," Sam suggested.

"Good idea," Dean said. "Rapunzel here can help."

Melody raised an eyebrow, challenging him.

"Can I?"

"Definitely," Dean smirked back dangerously and Melody simply rolled her eyes and dropped it. "Short stuff, you're coming with me to the kitchen to get some food. I'm starving and we all need all our energy."

Emma rolled her eyes.

"You can't handle getting some food by yourself?" she mocked him.

"Nah. But you're the mastermind. I ain't letting you out of my sight."

She fought a smile and followed him. Objectively speaking, she could see his point. She shot Melody a look screaming 'Do what you've got to do and get him off your ass', looking pointedly at Sam. Melody gave a quick nod before Emma and Dean disappeared around the corner.

However, getting rid of Sam might have been easier said than done. He was smart. Sharp. If Emma was the mastermind Bennett, Sam was the mastermind Winchester and Melody had to come up with some really sneaky plan to take him down. She studied him going through several books for a couple of minutes and tried to figure out some strategy. The only way to physically do something would've been to get really close to him, catch him off guard and use her height as an advantage. But that was also easier said than done. She sighed and joined him in his research. He smiled down at her.

"I'm glad you guys decided to stay," he told her in a soft voice. There was a huge difference between how kind and friendly Sam was and the coldness and hostility of his brother.

"It's not like we had a choice," Melody rolled her eyes, but returned his smile.

"What do you mean?" Sam frowned.

She nearly high-fived herself when she realized the opening she had just created. She smiled to herself and seized the opportunity.

"Come on," she shot him a look. "You're two guys and we're two girls. Even as hunters, this is not a fair fight. Let alone the fact that you're insanely tall."

Sam looked at her with an amused expression on his face.

"What, are you kidding me?" he mused. "The fact that I'm tall and you're so much shorter is _why_ you could've taken me out."

Melody huffed.

"Don't be absurd, there's no way in hell I could have," she insisted, praying he'd taken the bait while she tucked a blond curl behind her ear in what she hoped was a sheepish gesture.

Sam rolled his eyes and he was by her side in an instant, smiling warmly. Poor idiot, Melody thought. She almost felt bad for tricking such a nice guy.

"Let me show you," he actually offered, and Melody almost snickered. This was way too easy. "It might come in handy someday. As a hunter, you might find yourself in a similar situation again."

She nodded and tried to look focused on what he was saying.

"Your best advantage would be using your elbows," he started, flexing her arm so that he could exemplify the move. "You might want to thrust those in the solar plexus, preferably. Hurts like a son of a bitch, trust me. But settle for anywhere. Anywhere in the abdomen would be just fine enough to make him bend down a little in pain, so that you can bring your elbow up and hit him in the jaw."

He brought her elbow up with a slow, gentle move, as an example and she nodded like an obedient student. Of course, she actually knew this tactic. Both she and Emma did. It was kind of the first things they had learnt when they had become hunters, seeing as protecting themselves as women, above anything else, was a priority. But she let Sam guide her through the process, watching his guard fall down step by step.

"It doesn't necessarily have to be the jaw. Just as high as you can do. Neck's even better. Then grab his shoulders."

He turned her around and placed her hands on her shoulder and Melody found herself feeling a little flushed, but she dismissed the feeling as fast as it came over her.

"And kick him in the balls as hard as you can," he said seriously and Melody couldn't help but giggle. "I know this is the world's oldest self-defense move, but it's underrated. The effect is guaranteed."

She kept her smile on her face and moved back into the initial position he had shown her.

"So, let me see if I got this straight," she said, a wicked smile playing over her lips and was pleased to see that Sam hadn't seen it coming in the little bit. With a speed she had no idea she was capable of, she repeated his moves on him. Solar plexus, jaw (she was a little surprised that Sam had bent down enough for her to even reach his jaw), grab his shoulders, knee to the balls.

Sam fell at her feet, grunting, not completely passed out, but disoriented enough for her to escape and find Emma.

"You were right," she muttered quickly, more to herself than to Sam as she stepped over his body. "I could take you out." Then she ran off to find her sister.

For Emma, however, it was a lot easier. She made sure to stand behind Dean most of the time, struggling to find an opening and knock him out. She was surprised when Dean led her into a full kitchen. Somehow, she didn't picture any of the guys cooking.

"Grab some beer for me, would you?" Dean told her over his shoulder as he reached for a bag of food on the table.

This was the perfect occasion, Emma told herself. Moving fast, but silently, she grabbed a bottle of beer out of the fridge and smashed it in the back of Dean's head. He fell like a bag of potatoes, his blondish hair smeared with blood. She almost felt guilty about doing this to him, especially leaving him like this, but she had no time to feel guilty. They had to get out and be three states away by the time he woke up. God, she just hoped Mel had taken care of Sam, too.

She got out of the kitchen and headed for the library, but ran into Melody half way.

"Thank God," she whispered. "Sam?"

"Knock out," Melody grinned. "Let's go."

Emma nodded and they started to make their way to the exit. They had almost made it to the stairs when another angel appeared. Emma gasped. She knew this angel. She had seen his trenchcoat somewhere else. But before she could remember when or where, the angel put two fingers on both of their foreheads and everything went blank.


	5. Chapter 4: Can you handle the truth?

They woke up with a start. Their heads were fuzzy and memories of what had happened were still unclear. Emma tried to move but found herself unable to. _Melody,_ had been her first thought. Had something happened to her? Had they been kidnapped? She opened her eyes slowly and looked around.

Of course. The bunker. The Winchesters. Ugh. She looked down to see her arms were tied to her body, as well as her wrists and her feet. She caught glimpse of Dean and narrowed her eyes at him.

"Really?" she asked, raising her hands. "Was this necessary?"

Dean glared at her and only then did she see that he was holding a bag of ice on his head. She blushed slightly. She would have erased that out of her mind as soon as they got away, but now that they were still here, she couldn't help but feel a little guilty.

She finally noticed Melody, sitting in a chair next to her, just as restrained. Only she was wearing a smug expression on her face, her gaze fixated on Sam, who was staring back at her murderously.

"Purple suits you, big guy," Melody teased, and that's when Emma noticed the bruise on his jaw turning purplish. It was only beginning to show now, but it was definitely going to be noticeable tomorrow. She would have chuckled if it weren't for the tension.

"And that was definitely necessary," Dean answered Emma's earlier question, pointing at her hands. "Considering how you pretty girls happened to just knock us unconscious out of the blue."

Emma's blush intensified, while Melody simply shrugged. That had been their last chance to do something about this. Never would they make the boys to trust them enough in order to catch them off guard again. Emma groaned as she realized there was no way out. The Winchesters were too stubborn to let them go.

"Seriously, Dean," she whined. "Why don't you guys let it go? We work alone. We've been fine by ourselves for five years and we'll keep being fine. We don't need you and you don't need us."

Her face was flushed with anger and she struggled to find the words to convince him. She and Melody could take care of themselves and having the Winchesters on their tails was a pain in the ass. She wished she could just make them see that and get it over with.

"You've got your mind set on a stupid purpose," she continued, feeling her blood boiling in her veins. "If we stayed, we'd be putting you in danger by dragging you into a story you have nothing to do with _and_ endanger ourselves by hanging out with the friggin' Winchesters, world's most notorious hunter. So why? Why don't you just let us go?"

Melody was silent by her side. She knew that when it came to talking themselves out of a situation, Emma was your person. She, on the other hand, was the one throwing punches and doing the threats. And since that hadn't turned out okay for them, it was about time for some smooth talking.

Dean was looking at Emma with narrowed eyes.

"We're not letting you go," he spoke slowly, in a low deep voice, "because we figured it out."

Both Melody and Emma raised their eyebrows, wondering what they missed while they'd been out.

"Cas?" Dean asked, and the girls frowned in confusion.

That's when Emma finally noticed the third man standing a few feet away from them. His presence was subtle. Discreet. The first thing she noticed about him was that he seemed a little shy and awkward, but his stiff posture made her think he was an angel. They did tend to look like they had a pole up their asses. But the trenchcoat is what triggered her memory.

"You," she whispered, looking at him wide-eyed. "I know you."

He looked at her with something that Emma could've sworn was guilt. If he was who she thought he was, guilt was the last thing she expected to read on his face. Firstly, because she doubted angels could feel such thing.

"You knocked us out," Melody shrieked, and her sister was certain that, if she hadn't been tied up, she might have skinned him alive. But that wasn't what Emma was talking about.

"You're the angel who saved us that night," she murmured, her gaze fixated on him. "Who got us on that plane."

The angel looked at Dean, a silent conversation taking place between them, and then he sighed.

"Yes, that was me," he answered eventually in a deep, hoarse voice. "My name is Castiel."

Emma was breathing heavily. She had never thought she'd get to face her past again. She had settled for letting it far behind long ago. She was definitely not ready.

"Explain," she demanded in a broken voice.

Castiel sighed.

"The time when the angels attacked you was a little after I rebelled against heaven," he started. "So I was aware of their plans with you two."

"What plans?" Melody inquired before Castiel could keep going.

He looked at her, at both of them, like speaking to them right now was the hardest thing he'd ever done.

"The angels wanted to use you as weapons in the apocalypse," he said. "Because you're the doppelgangers of the vessels."

His words were followed by utter silence. None of them said anything. The brothers waited for the girls to process, and the girls were having a really hard time processing.

"Double-what?" Melody murmured, confusion written all over her face.

"Doppelgangers," Emma repeated, pale as a ghost. It was clear to her sister that she knew that word. "It means— It means we're them. We're female versions of them."

"What?" Melody exclaimed, staring incredulously between Castiel and her sister, wondering if this was some sick joke.

"Actually, that's not entirely accurate," Castiel explained. "You're not versions of them. You are your own selves. It's just that the essence of your souls is built on the same pattern as theirs."

Dean shook his head.

"Cas, we talked about this," he said, looking exasperated. "Simpler words. You lost me at doppelganger."

"Basically," Emma said shakily before Castiel had a chance to answer. "We were created as the Winchesters sequels."

It was a bad joke and none of them laughed, but it was kinda true. It was like being taken away the concept of who they were. Because they weren't themselves anymore. They were some sort of copycats. They didn't even know how to feel about it.

"So, we understand the doppelganger thing," Sam broke the awkward silence that was again settling in. "But what do the angels want with them?"

"And why were we created in the first place?" Melody asked, feeling rage building up inside her, compared to Emma, who looked like every wall she'd ever had was crumbling down around her.

"Doppelgangers are created with angel grace," Castiel explained. "You were created for a specific purpose. Having been made after the pattern of the vessels, the angels wanted to harvest that angel grace in order to ease their access into the bodies of their vessels during the apocalypse. You were a part of a very well thought plan B."

"So Michael and Lucifer made doppelgangers so that they could use them as vessels if we didn't say 'yes'?" Sam asked, confused.

"Michael and Lucifer wanted to use chicks as vessels?" Dean smirked, despite himself. "Dude, that's kinky."

Everybody glared at him for the comment, but he just shrugged, cleared his voice and pushed himself back to strategy mode.

"They didn't want to use them as vessels," Castiel continued. "They just wanted the angel grace. Having that grace wearing the touch of Sam and Dean's souls would've granted them access into their bodies without needing their permission. It would've worked like a key that opened the door from the inside."

"So, let me get this straight," Emma closed her eyes, trying to even her breath against a panic attack. "We're doppelgangers. We're you, except we're girls. We have angel grace. The angels wanted our angel grace to bring the apocalypse. What was your part in it?"

Castiel's face was once again flooded with guilt and Emma found herself angry at him for no reason. What was he feeling guilty about? He had saved their lives. But also, she wanted to punch him in the face for having sided with those dickheads at some point.

"I was ready to fight their war," he admitted. "I was going to do whatever it took. Fortunately, I had my eyes opened long before I took that leap." He looked at the girls apologetically. "I knew what their plans were with you. I just wish I had intervened sooner. Having you taken away from your families and thrown into this life, I blamed myself for it every day since."

"We understand."

Surprisingly enough, the voice belonged to Melody. That was something Emma would've said, but instead, the hot tempered sister was the reasonable one this time. Emma was having a hard time getting it all into her head, but Melody, she tried to think clearly. She needed to. Her sister watched her curiously for a few seconds, then she nodded herself.

"You saved our lives," she said, then she turned to the boys. "You averted the apocalypse. I'd say that's a win. There was nothing more you could've done, Castiel."

She tried to smile at him and found herself meaning it, and he smiled back a little.

"And you just zapped them on a plane with some doodles on their ribs and let them roam by themselves?" Dean turned to Castiel.

"The symbols cloaked them for me as well, Dean. As long as I knew the angels wouldn't be able to find them, I hoped it would be good enough."

"It was," Emma reassured them. "It was hard, but we handled ourselves. Until now."

"Oh, no, short stuff, no way," Dean cut her off. "Don't go selling me that crap about how you were fine just before you ran into us and then we screwed things up for ya, 'cause I ain't buying it."

"Emma, this is one more reason why we should stick together," Sam calmly added. "You should stop working against us and accept that we can help each other. One way or another, we're linked."

Melody sighed.

"But what do they want with us now?" she asked exasperatedly. "That's what I can't wrap my head around. The apocalypse is over and the vessel thing is off. Why would they make all that fuss and work with demons just so that they can find us now, five years later?"

"Because that angel grace is still valuable," Castiel said. "Especially since it bears the mark of a Winchester soul."

The girls saw Dean roll his eyes, but they could've told that was true even before knowing the Winchesters. Their heads were wanted on a silver plate by every supernatural being that's ever existed.

"We'll figure it all out," Sam told them reassuringly. "But we need to know that you're in it for real this time. No more tricks, no more running. This time, we're asking you. If you don't want to, if you still want to go, it's your choice. We won't stop you."

"Like hell we won't!" Dean exclaimed fiercely.

"No, Dean, we won't. What're you gonna do? Put them in chains and keep them in the dungeon?"

"The what?" Melody couldn't help but shriek, but they ignored her.

"If they want to leave, we can't stop them," Sam continued, then he turned to them. "But we have a better chance together."

Emma considered it for a minute. She could see their point. She knew her point as well, but that decision of leaving had been based on what they knew then, before they found out they were Winchester girl clones. Before they knew they had angel grace. It changed everything and somehow, she felt scared for the first time in five years. This time, maybe it was really too much. She looked at Melody and saw in her eyes that she was thinking the same thing, so she sighed and met Sam's eyes.

"Fine," she spat. "I hate it, but you're right. This is too much too handle. We're staying. For now."

Sam smiled and nodded. Melody raised her hands at him, raising her eyebrows at the ropes.

"Now, if you don't mind."

Dean proceeded to untie them and while he was doing so, Emma could see a little grin on his face.

"What?" she snapped at him. He looked up at her, not bothering in the very least to hide it.

"I was just wondering which one of you is _my_ doppelganger."

She rolled her eyes before she saw Castiel –Cas, as Dean called him— moving past her and starting to work on Melody's ropes just as Dean finished untying hers.

"Melody is," Castiel answer. "And Emma is Sam's. It's easy to see by the resemblance between your souls."

The four of them looked at him dumb folded. The boys were quickest to react.

"Rapunzel?" Dean exclaimed. "I'm not that annoying."

"Isn't Emma a little too short to be mine?" Sam asked at the same time.

Melody punched Dean's arm hard enough to make him flinch, while Emma just glared at Sam.

"You're mistaking the concept of doppelganger," Cas explained. "They're not really you, and especially not physically. It's just your deepest essence that's the same. The lore often has that confused. The resemblance between two people begins at their very roots. That's where you'll find similarities. Certain gestures, feelings, beliefs. I'm not exactly sure myself. I've never seen a doppelganger until now."

"Ain't that encouraging," Melody mocked.

"I don't know," Sam smiled at them. "I think it'll prove to be actually interesting."

**A.N. Okay,this one's a little more tense and dramatic, but I had to, because it's when things get revealed. Hope you liked it,though :) I'm also really, really happy that the story managed to get over 300 views in just a few days and I also got my first review, yay! Thank you! I'll see you soon with chapter 5, stay tuned! Lots of love, xoxo**


	6. Chapter 5: Cozy

"This is fascinating," Melody exclaimed as she walked into the library, looking between Sam and Emma.

They were sitting at a table with about a dozen open books around them, but they were both staring intently at their laptops, both frowning, same focused expression on their faces. They were also both wearing plaid, which was actually a little creepier. Seeing Sam on his computer made Melody wonder if the loved that thing just like her sister loved hers.

"You got anything?" she asked, landing in a chair so that she was facing Emma.

"Not much," Sam answered. "Nothing more than what Cas told us and lots of legends about doppelgangers being some sort of alter-ego of the original. A ghost created by the darkest part of their souls. Other legends claim that doppelgangers are bad luck bringers and that they are some sort of evil twins."

"Don't rule that out," Dean said as he entered the room. "There's still a fine possibility that they're our evil twins."

He caught glimpse of Sam and Emma and, for an instant, his expression mirrored Melody's from a few minutes earlier.

"That's disturbing," he muttered, then he shook his head, placing the bottles on the table and sitting next to Melody. "So basically, we still don't have squat on the doppelganger thing, right?"

"No, not really," Emma admitted, reaching for her beer. But just when she grabbed the bottle, she saw Dean leaning across the table and she felt his hand wrapping around her wrist, his gaze holding hers captive. She felt a little flushed at his touch, feeling his big, calloused hands on her skin, yet his touch being warm and firm.

"Hope that one doesn't land in my head, short stuff," he half joked, and Emma smiled teasingly, with a hint of mischief.

"Dean, you can never trust a woman," she responded, and he let go of her wrist, with a threatening glimpse in his eye. But Emma didn't mind it. She knew, and he did as well, that they were far from trusting each other.

As he retrieved his arm, she saw a symbol that made her shiver a little for no reason. It was reddish, on Dean's forearm, like a third degree burn, but it was L-shaped, like an ancient rune. She had no idea what it was, but that thing was radiating some really bad energy.

"What's that?" she asked Dean in what she hoped was a casual voice, careful not to reveal how anxious it made her feel.

She saw his jaw tighten and felt Sam tense in the chair next to hers. Dean had a haunted look in his eyes that scared Emma and, for a moment, she considered taking her question back and minding her own business, but then he decided to answer.

"That's the mark of Cain," he said simply.

Emma and Melody looked at each other, not sure what to think for a couple of minutes.

"When you say Cain—" Melody started, watching him apprehensively.

"I mean Cain. Abel's brother. Biblical Cain."

"Holy crap," Emma muttered under her breath. "So Cain is a real thing?"

"He's a real person," Dean answered, absent-mindedly touching his forearm. "A while ago, there was this demon we wanted to kill. Abaddon, the last knight of hell. We found Cain, he told us about this weapon called the First Blade, which would've been useless without the Mark. So he transferred me the Mark, I killed Abaddon, I was killed by a dickwad called Metatron, I died, came back as a demon and Sammy cured me."

"Wait, what?" Emma shook her head, confused by the amount of information that was being thrown at her. It also happened that this information made no sense at all. "So you died."

Sam shot her a sad grin.

"We tend to do that a lot," he said ruefully. Emma looked at him like he was crazy, but continued anyway.

"And you were a demon?"

Dean didn't answer, but it was clear by the look on his face. Of course. Hence the ghosts in his eyes. If he had been a demon and now he was human, it couldn't have been easy on him. Demons killed, demons tortured, demons were cruel and merciless. And Dean was tough. But she could see past the rough patches of his hunter self. Dean Winchester was a man full of band aids. And she had the feeling that all those memories of being a demon and the prints they had left on his souls were more than he could bandage.

"And Sam cured you?" Melody asked incredulously. "How do you cure a demon?"

"It was a long shot," Sam answered when it became clear than Dean wasn't going to talk about it anymore. "We knew there was a way, but with Dean, it was different. He wasn't just possessed, he was a full demon, body and soul. A knight of hell, actually. It nearly got us both killed, but we pulled through."

None of them spoke for a couple more minutes. The girls didn't know what to make of this whole situation. And the boys were both wondering if they had been right to trust them with this story. Dean surely didn't feel comfortable with them knowing. But Sam was actually glad. If they were really going to work as a team, and they had no other choice but to do that, they needed to know everything there was to know.

"But the Mark," Emma broke the silence, her voice soft and her eyes watching Dean warily. "It's still there."

He touched it again, looking at his hand as if it were detached from his body, like it no longer belonged to him. Like his hand was his greatest enemy. And maybe it was. Dean definitely felt so. He felt the burn of the Mark deep within his soul. It was a constant fight, not being in full control of himself. It would've been so easy for him to give in to the desire to kill. The need. The craving. It was like the Mark would've just guided his hand through the process. He closed his eyes and squeezed his fist, trying to even his breath. He opened them a few seconds later.

"Yeah, it still is," he told Emma. "And it's a pain in the ass. The demon is gone, but I can still hear its screams."

"Whoa, whoa," Melody, exclaimed, holding her hands in front of herself. "Don't you think you should've shared this little piece of information with us _before _we agreed to stay here with you? I mean, what if you decide to go on a killing spree?"

"Mel!" her sister shrieked, surprised by Melody's harshness. As Dean's doppelganger, Emma would've expected her sister to understand him better than anyone. But then again, she could see that neither Dean, nor Mel were the most compassionate and empathetic people.

"I won't," Dean reassured them, and something in his eyes shut Melody's mouth. "I'm stable. I'll find a way to get rid of that, but for now, all you need to know is that I'm balanced enough and that I wouldn't hurt you."

"I know," Emma answered quickly, then glared at her sister. "Melody does, too. If you wanted to hurt us, you would've done it already. "

The corners of his mouth lifted a little in what was the beginning of a smile, but they fell back in an instant, like nothing happened. Yeah, Emma decided. Maybe Dean Winchester wasn't a demon anymore, but he definitely still had some demons to struggle with.

"Okay, pretty eyes, not grab a book and get your fancy ass to researching," Melody chided him, and he just rolled his eyes and complied.

They all sunk into a comfortable silence, for the first time since they had met. Dean and Melody were scanning through the books, now and then letting out a frustrated sigh. Emma and Sam were still focused on their laptops and, several minutes later, Emma noticed Sam occasionally studying her with the corner of his eye. He looked like he was about to say something, but kept changing his mind.

"What?" she eyed his curiously.

He smiled a guilty half-smile.

"Nothin'," he answered. "You just said you were in college when the angels came for you."

She shrugged. "So?"

"I was just wondering what you were studying."

Dean raised his eyes from the book and watched his brother. He knew where this was coming from. He related to her. Sam had been in college, too, before Dean got him into hunting again and, although he was more than happy to have his brother fighting alongside with him, he still felt guilty. So, of course Sam would be interested in Emma's experience. She was his twin soul and he was curious how that had been for her and if she felt the same way he did about having to abandon the chance of a bright future.

"Medicine," Emma answered, averting her gaze, something that both of the boys seized. Yeah, she clearly felt the same way Sam did. "I was on my way to be a doctor."

Sam's eyes widened in appreciation. "Really? How was that like?"

Emma's eyes sparkled as she remembered how happy she'd been, but there was a hint of sadness behind the golden glint of her deep brown eyes.

"All the adrenaline of the hunting couldn't make me feel more alive," she admitted, smiling bitterly. "Knowing you'll be ready to save lives and help people one day."

"You still save lives and help people," Dean retorted.

"That's what I keep telling her," Melody muttered, which cost her a glare from her sister.

"And I keep telling you it's different," Emma said. "Hunting's about restoring a natural order. Killing things so that they don't go after people and take their lives away, kill them before their time comes. But being a doctor, I would've had the chance to save lives, or at least improve them, even when their time is near. I could've give people second chances."

None of them had a good enough answer for this. Emma spoke with sheer passion and they could all see how much she missed it. Sam and Dean found themselves wanting to, but not being able to find anything to say that could've made her feel better.

"Well, in the meantime, having you here might come in handy," Dean settled for a quick slip to business mode. "Hunting gets ugly and it'd be hella useful to have someone that actually knows how to patch people up."

Emma narrowed her eyes at him, but she had to admit he was right. Those past years, her basic medical knowledge had proved quite useful on those occasions when she and Mel had gotten hurt. And that had happened a lot. A clean, careful stitch was more effective than a sloppy one and the wound healed faster. Also, in this job, the greatest risk when getting hurt was catching an ugly infection, so along with guns and clothes, they always carried a bag of medical supplies with them.

"Yeah, well," she said eventually. "We're gonna need some first aid supplies for that. Bandages, antiseptics, painkillers, all kind of instruments. We've kinda run out lately."

Sam and Dean exchanged a look and Emma watched them curiously.

"What? You guys must have something like that around."

Sam scratched the back of his head.

"Not really," he admitted, and Emma raised an eyebrow at him.

"Then how do you patch yourself up?"

"Cleanse with whiskey," Dean counted. "Stitch with dental floss. We pretty much use whatever does the job."

Emma's eyes widened.

"This is so unsanitary! How haven't you guys died of sepsis yet?"

Melody groaned and closed her eyes and her sister's exaggerations. She always went like this, always worrying more about dying of sepsis than about actually getting killed by monsters. She always said she didn't want to die a stupid death. Sam was doing his best not to chuckle, but Dean had no problem dramatically rolling his eyes.

"Okay, grandma," he mumbled. "We'll rob some pharmacy for you or whatever."

Emma smiled, pleased with herself.

"Where's Cas?" she asked a couple of minutes later, when she saw that none of them was really in the mood to go back to researching. "I haven't seen him all day."

"He's doing his own kind of research," Dean answered. "Asking around, seeing what he can find."

Emma nodded, pursing her lips. She actually wanted to talk to the angel in private. There was a thing she really wanted to ask him, but she couldn't bring herself to do it before. She wished he was here now, though, while the question was bugging the back of her mind so hard she would've actually let it out.

"Hello," she heard Cas's deep, hoarse voice behind her and she jumped a little.

"Shit," she hissed. "Cas, you scared me."

"Emma," Cas greeted her and the he turned to her sister. "Melody. Have you found any useful information yet?"

"Nothing," Sam answered. "Have you?"

"I've been following some leads, but I wasn't able to learn anything more than I already knew."

He then shifted his gaze to Emma, looking her straight in the eye.

"Was it something you wanted to talk to me about?" he asked her bluntly and Emma turned bright red.

"How did you know?"

"I heard your prayer."

Emma frowned at him. She definitely hadn't been praying. And definitely not to him. She still had some faith in her, some beliefs she couldn't just let go, but praying to any kind of angel, that was out of the question at this point. Even if this was the angel who had actually saved her.

"You wanted me to be here so that you could ask me something," Cas explained. "It's not a formal prayer, but it's a longing that we can pick up."

Emma sighed, seeing no point in denying it. She felt brave enough to speak her mind now and she needed to take advantage of it.

"Can I talk to you for a minute?" she asked him, and he nodded.

They both left the library under the confused gaze of Melody and the brothers. As soon as they were out of their sight, Emma turned to him.

"What's wrong?" he watched her curiously and she started chewing her bottom lip.

"I just –". She took a deep breath. "I just wanted to know if you knew anything about my family. If you still knew how my parents or my old friends were."

She felt the sting of tears in the corners of her eyes as she spoke the words. She hadn't thought about the people back in U.K. in years. It was so hard she had just blocked it all out. But now, as the slight opportunity had presented itself, she had to ask. She needed to know they were okay. And Cas must have sensed that, because she could have sworn something in his unreadable expression nearly softened.

"If you read that note I left you when I brought you to this country, then you know what I had to do," he began, almost apologetically, and Emma nodded quickly.

"Yeah, I do. I just need to know if they're okay. That they're all safe without us."

"They are, Emma," he reassured her. "You have nothing to worry about. Your parents don't know they ever had children. They believe they couldn't conceive and that they've come to terms with it. Your old boyfriend is getting married in a few weeks. Your friends are all fine. I've kept track of them in these past few years."

Emma blinked back the tears furiously. She didn't want to cry. It hurt like a son of a bitch to know that life kept going just fine without them and that they weren't remembered and missed, but they were safe. Nothing else mattered. And the fact that Castiel had watched over them this whole time was enough proof that this one angel was trustworthy. He was kind and pure and selfless, like she grew up to believe angels were like. She smiled at him.

"Thank you, Cas," she whispered at him and he nodded and offered a tiny smile in return.

She moved past him and walked back into the library, ready to switch herself back into research mode, just to find Melody and the boys moping around.

"Alright," Dean clapped his hands together when he saw Emma walk in. "This whole geeking out crap is clearly getting us nowhere."

Emma landed in her seat and rolled her eyes at Dean.

"Then what do you suggest we do, Dean?" she spat at him.

He smirked like he'd been waiting for someone to ask that question.

"It's time to build some trust if we wanna work together as a team." He made a long, unnecessary dramatic break as three pairs –four, considering Cas had just entered the library as well— of eyes were on him. "Time to drink it up."

**A.N. Hey, guys! Hope you'll like this chapter, although it's a little boring. I just had to get them somehow used to each other, y'know? Anyway, I'm not sure when I'll be able to post again, because I'm having 2 kick-ass exams this week. I'll try to make it as quick as I can. Lots of love, you guys are awesome! We're almost up to 500 views for only 4 chapter, woo-hoo! **


	7. Chapter 6: Drink up!

"Yeah, but did you know that 'Nothing else matters' were actually the last words of James Hetfield's grandfather? That's how the song was born."

"Dude, come on. Metallica's 'Nothing else matters' is my favorite song, of course I knew that."

Dean and Melody had engaged into a heating conversation about rock bands and rock songs and rock facts and basically rock anything ever since they had gotten into the car and Dean had turned on the radio. It was getting on Sam's and Emma's nerves already, but it was actually interesting to watch. Their music taste wasn't just similar, it was identical. And they were so excited, each of them was trying to top the other's facts. They were grown-ups acting like little kids, except for the fact that instead of toys, they had classic rock.

While Emma was still struggling with a bottle of beer she'd only drunk half, Dean and Mel were already on their third tequila shot. Emma could see Sam watching his brother warily, occasionally eyeing the Mark of Cain, but Dean seemed to have such a good time, Sam surrendered, too, in the end, ordering his own shot of tequila after finishing his beer and laughing at the two goofheads.

Right between the third and the forth shot, Melody caught glimpse of some not so subtle eye flirting Dean had been doing with a hot blonde a few seats over. She was really gorgeous, with pale white silk skin and clear blue eyes, her hair falling gracefully over her shoulders. Sure, she was a little slutty, too, but this was a bar. She grinned shamelessly and mischievously at Dean.

"She's way out of your league, pretty eyes," she patted his shoulders. "You stand no chance."

Dean huffed, looking almost offended.

"What're ya talkin' about?" he looked down at her. "I can definitely hit that."

They both gulped down the forth shot of tequila before Melody chuckled. "Yeah, right. I bet I can get the number of the hottest guy in here before you can get that girl's number."

Dean watched her curiously, and then he nodded and held out his hand.

"Challenge accepted."

Sam and Emma snickered, while Melody was eyeing Dean's hand, pondering. Eventually, guided by the alcohol flowing throw her veins, she took his hand and shook it, sealing the deal. Then Dean caught her shoulders and spun her around.

"See that guy?" he pointed to the other side of the bar.

Dean's choice was a hot, tall, dark stranger, drinking by himself. He wore a leather jacket and a lit cigarette was resting between his fingers as he hungrily scanned the crowd for available women. He was mysterious, interesting, definitely exciting, Melody admitted to herself. Not the kind of guy she'd usually go after, but she only needed to prove a point for now.

"He's clearly not the hottest guy in here," she whispered over her shoulder to Dean.

"Maybe," he answered. "But he'll be a real challenge for your skills."

Melody rolled her eyes and turned to face him. He was wearing a smug expression on his face that she hoped she could wipe off. She could see Dean was a real player and that girls came and went through his bed often enough. But although she only enjoyed the chase rather than actually getting involved with random people, she was a player herself and yet a skilled one. Only, unlike Dean's, her game stopped as soon as she had their number and their attention. It was easier this way. Melody's hunting strategy was sheer badassery. She had taken up on this attitude the minute they got into the business and, although she couldn't exactly say she was happy this way, it did keep her sane. Kill as many sons of bitches they could. Save lives. Be lethal. And apart from Emma, don't let any other person get to you. She saw how it had killed her sister to leave her old boyfriend behind. Emma had loved Ethan with all her might. So Melody promised herself she'd never get too attached to people, because in this life they were currently living, they left people behind. So she went around, dazzled some poor idiots and broke their hearts.

"You've got yourself a bet, Winchester," she smirked and him and went off to work her charm on Mr. Bond in the corner.

Emma smiled a little and shook her head. She didn't even need to watch her to foresee what would happen. Guys liked straight-forward girls and that, Melody was. She'd just sit down and ask him to buy her a drink, and he'd be dumb folded. The rest would go smooth and fast. Dean had gotten himself a bet with a pro.

"I take it you're used to it?" Sam smiled at her and she chuckled.

"I take it so are you?"

They both laughed, and Sam nodded, looking in his brother's direction, who was whispering something in the blonde girl's ear. Way to go.

"A shamelessly-flirting Melody was already enough for me," Emma said, sipping her beer. "A male shamelessly-flirting Melody teaming up with my Melody is more than the world can handle."

Sam laughed whole-heartedly and Emma could see that he related. After all, Dean and Melody were the same at the core and dealing with their volcanic nature had to have been the same for each of their siblings.

Sam was going to add something when they both saw Melody walking towards them, proudly holding a napkin in her hand. Emma was sure that she would've fluttered it at them hadn't it been for the poor guy still watching her as she walked away. She caught Dean's eye and mouthed 'I win' to him just as the blonde girl was writing her number in his palm. Emma felt the urge to roll her eyes. Wasn't that cliché?

"You may have won the bet," Dean told Melody as he sat back at their table, then he showed her the digits written in his palm. "But I definitely didn't lose, Rapunzel."

Melody snickered at him then she went to get another round. Emma agreed to a shot of something stronger herself, so Sam offered to help Melody with the drinks.

"Okay, short stuff, your turn," Dean told Emma excitedly, rubbing his hands together and scanning the crowd for a potential male victim. "Let's see you break some hearts."

Emma blushed a little and shot him an embarrassed smile.

"Sorry, Dean," she told him. "Wrong girl for the job. Usually Melody does the flirting and I sit back and enjoy myself."

Dean watched her for a few seconds, a glint of amusement in his eyes.

"What?" Emma asked him when he wouldn't drop her gaze.

"So you don't flirt? All the hunters flirt. All the hunters have flings."

"I don't," she sighed. "And Melody doesn't do flings either. This is just entertainment. We're both decent girls. A couple of girls hunting alone, roaming bars full of jerks, that's not the most pleasant thing and people tend to get the wrong idea. I'd rather be feared than desired."

Dean was still looking at her funny and Emma wished she could've been as tipsy as him right now and stop throwing Zen crap at him. Finally, he broke her gaze and slammed his hands on the table right before Sam and Melody put the drinks down.

"Well, if picking up hotties isn't up for discussion," he told her, "we might as well have our fun. Drink up, short stuff."

She eyed the tiny glass funny and weighted Dean's words. She was usually the calculated one, never drinking on the job, and now was definitely a bad moment, considering they had an army of angels on their tails. But somehow, she decided to screw it all. So she picked up the shot, threw her head back and drank it, feeling the alcohol slowly burning down her throat.

"'Atta girl," Dean mumbled, while Sam chuckled and her sister cheered.

"Shit," Emma coughed, but smiled in spite of herself. Yeah, she was determined to have some fun.

Lots of drinks later that everyone lost track of, Emma was already laughing and joking, her speaking already a little slurred. Melody loves seeing her so carefree for a change. Emma was always so sane and reasonable and careful and sometimes, Melody hated that. She hated to be the little sister, always the one looked after, always reckless, always screwing up. She hated that Emma had to always take care of her and not be able to take more care of herself, because God knew she needed it. If Melody had had her way, she would've taken every ounce of hardship from her sister's heart and carry it all on her shoulders. She was strong enough and she wished Emma didn't have to. But she would settle for this. Although she was kinda tipsy herself, she enjoyed seeing her older sister loosen up a little and smile a real smile.

"One more," Emma yelled as she placed another empty glass on the table, Dean cheering for her in the background. Melody laughed and, although she knew this meant killer hangover in the morning, it was all worth having fun tonight. So she made her way to the bar and asked for four more shots.

As she waited for her drinks, she felt a hand sliding around her waist. She turned around to see some fugly dude standing way to close for her to be uncomfortable. Her first instinct was to kick, but she didn't want to make a scene and get herself thrown out of the bar. So she smiled bitchy at him and smacked his hand away.

"Can I help you?" she used her coldest voice she was capable of.

" Aw, come on, baby, don't be a pouter," he tried to whisper seductively into her ear, but Melody found herself disgusted, the guy's breath smelling like cheap cigarettes and alcohol. She put a hand on his chest and shoved him a little, enough to send the message.

"Touch me again and you'll lose a few fingers," she told him softly, keeping a smile on her face the whole time, but dangerous and threatening nonetheless.

The guy, however, ignored her and proceeded to slide his dirty hands along her arms and Melody shivered in disgust.

"Don't worry, babe, I love it when they play hard to get."

Melody smacked his hands away and the guy kept finding ways to touch her, so she gritted her teeth and was about to twist his arm really painfully when she felt a presence behind her. She turned around only to face Sam's chest. She knew he was absurdly tall, but right now, he seemed somehow even taller, like he was crunching and now he used every inch of his height.

"Is there a problem, Melody?" he asked her, but his gaze was fixated on the guy, fierce and dangerous. For a tiny second, Melody admitted to herself dangerous looked hot on him.

The guy's face fell the second he saw Sam, and he now looked like he just wanted to disappear, terrified.

"Nah, bro, we were just talkin'," the bastard managed to mutter, swallowing hard. Melody almost pitied him, seeing as Sam looked like a force of nature. Almost. Not really that much, actually.

"Well, she doesn't want to talk to you." Sam dropped his voice, making Melody shiver a little, too. "So get lost."

They guy didn't need to be told this twice, he turned around and disappeared into the crowd. Melody let out an appreciation whistle, chuckling at Sam.

"You okay?" he asked her as soon as the guy was out of their sight.

"I'm fine. And I can take care of myself just fine, you know."

Sam half-smiled at her.

"I know you can," he said. "I was actually worried about the guy's safety. He had no idea what he was getting himself into."

Melody threw her head back laughing.

"You'd know, huh, Sam? I did take you out."

Sam looked down, fighting a smile. That hadn't been one of his proudest moments, but he had to admit, the girl had it in her. She was a little taller than Emma, but she was still short, only reaching his shoulder. And she had still managed to knock him out.

"You're never going to let me forget that, are you?"

"Not a chance in hell, big guy," Melody chuckled and Sam found himself unable to hold back and laughed, too.

"I'm going to the bathroom and then I'll come help you with the drinks," Sam told her, still smiling. "Will you be fine by yourself?"

Melody rolled her eyes.

"Don't make me punch you, Winchester."

He laughed and walked away, leaving Melody still waiting for those drinks. She glared at the bartender to let him know she was growing impatient and he shrugged apologetically, pointing at all the people waiting for their drinks, too.

She sighed and rested her elbows on the counter, oblivious to all the eyes turning to her. Melody was beautiful. With her long blondish curls and her green eyes surrounded by thick long lashes, with her curvy, average-height body, her pale skin and her diva attitude her sister always teased her about. She was unaware of how many men wanted her, but she still acted like they all did and it gave her a confident, sexy look. Right before the angel attack, Melody had been having the perfect high school experience and she was really enjoying it. She wasn't the popular Queen Bee type, she just had this thing about her, this talent, like Emma called it, this ability to shine, to attract people, to be the heart of every room she walked into. She had lost that when she was forced to leave without looking over her shoulder. But she was still her. Still passionate. Still devoted, even if this time, it was to hunting, still pouring all her heart in what she believed in. This was where the differences between her and Emma started. Emma was the subtle presence in a room. The kind that you barely observe, but when you do, she had the power to shyly-smile and puppy-eye her way to anyone's heart. She was shorter than her younger sister and her beauty was a little more exotic, with deep brown eyes, with dark hair and tanned skin and a slim, elegant body. Of course, she was lethal in a fight, her movements precise and sharp, calculated, but in the everyday life, she was clumsy and awkward and sheepish. Melody laughed to herself. She was curious how all these traits of theirs looked on the Winchesters. After all, that's where they had gotten them from.

"You changed your mind yet, sugar?"

Melody groaned in frustration, recognizing the voice of the guy from earlier. Some people just can't take a hint. Had he really waited for Sam to step away in order to make another move on her? Was he really that idiot? She was the one he should be afraid of.

"Look, man," she turned around, looking at him threateningly, speaking low and angrily. "I don't want to make a scene. So back the hell off and get away from me, because you're really getting on my nerves and I'm drunk and being nice is exhausting."

The guy smiled dumbly at her, reaching for her ass.

"Babe, you—"

Before he could finish his sentence and before his hand could touch her, Melody grabbed his hand and twisted it around, without really breaking it, but wishing she had, and then she clenched her fist, tilting her wrist down and sending her arm flying, her knuckles making contact with the douchebag's nose. Her punch caught him by surprise and he stumbled on his feet and next thing he knew, he was laying on his back, Melody flexing her hand and glaring murderously down at him.

"I told you to back the hell off," she hissed at him.

She looked around, expecting to see people gathered around watching the freak show and shook their heads disapprovingly, or maybe find the bartender waiting to throw her out, but instead, the few people who had actually witnessed the scene were nodding in appreciation. Well, it's not every day that you get to see a chick standing up for herself and punch a jackass.

She smiled a little and turned around. A few feet away from her was Sam, looking at her with his eyebrows raised, arms extended in confusion.

"I left you alone for, like, two minutes," he told Melody, and she just grinned.

"Told you I can take care of myself."

Sam shook his head, but Melody knew he was impressed. She was, after all, the girl who had taken out Sam Winchester.

Emma and Dean, however, were entirely clueless to what had happened with their siblings. They were still sitting at them table where Sam and Melody had left them, laughing and reminiscing.

"Melody loved that swing," Emma explained, focused as if she was giving life lessons. "Dad built it for us when we were little and she just looooved it. And one day –" She stopped to chuckle a little at the memory. "It had rained all night. And the next day, she fell off the swing, straight into a puddle of mud."

She was laughing hysterically by now, and Dean joined her, partly because of the story, and partly because of her contagious laughter.

"Straight into the mud," she emphasized. "And she got up crying, half of her face covered in mud. It was hilariooous."

They both laughed at the idea of Melody's face half covered in mud and Dean held up his hands to catch Emma's attention.

"Okay, okay, but get this. Sam believed in the Easter bunny until he was 12."

Emma threw her head back, laughing even harder than before, clapping her hands. That's when Sam and Melody returned to the table with four new drinks and all it took was one look at Sam before she truly lost it. She pointed her finger at him and her whole body was shaking with laughter.

"Bunny," was all she managed to say, talking about the Easter bunny incident, but as soon as she spoke the word, she couldn't get the image of Sam dressed like a giant bunny out of her head and nearly fell off her chair laughing.

Dean caught her elbow and steadied her in her seat, chuckling at her clumsiness and impossibility to make any sense.

"Is she okay?" Sam eyed her curiously.

Melody laughed.

"She's not that used to drinking," she explained. "And she's had a lot of drinks. She's okay now, but tomorrow's hangover will look even funnier on her."

Emma kept looking at Sam and laughing as she imagined long bunny ears coming out of his fabulous hair and him wiggling his tiny tail.

"Sam would be a cute bunny," she concluded, wiping tears of her laughter out of the corners of her eyes and trying to keep a straight face for a change, but failed anyway and burst into another round of laughter.

"Okay, short stuff," Dean stepped in. "That might be enough for you."

She narrowed her eyes at him and muttered 'party breaker', but even drunk, she knew it would've been useless to argue with them since they'd just drag her out anyway.

"One more," she held a finger raised at him and grabbed the shot Melody had brought for her. She smiled sheepishly at the three of them after she drank it and stood up, only to fall back in her seat, finding out her balance wasn't as sharp as she had expected.

Dean sighed, an amused look on his face, and he took her hand, helping her stand up, then he placed her arm over his shoulder and his arm around her waist so that he could carry her to the car.

"Alright, guys, let's take Happy Feet home," he told Sam and Melody over his shoulder and nearly dropped Emma when she launched herself into a new round of hysterical laughter.

"I'm proud to be Happy Feet," she giggled.

Melody found herself sobered up by the cold air of the night and she hoped it would have the same effect on her sister, but Emma didn't seem to have a problem with it.

"You want me to drive?" Sam asked Dean and he was rewarded with a glare from his older brother. He shrugged innocently. "What? You had a lot to drink. "

"Yeah, well, you drank, too," Dean retorted. "And the only drunk person I trust enough to drive my baby is me."

"You're bossy," Emma frowned at Dean as he placed her in the backseat of the Impala and he smiled a little at the déjà vu.

"And you're drunk," he told her as he went to climb into the driver's seat.

Emma felt her sister sliding in the car next to her and she let her head rest on her shoulder, closing her eyes for a little bit, still chuckling softly. She heard Dean mutter 'atta girl' and everything after that went blank.

**A.N. Okay, so this might be the longest one so far, but I just couldn't stop writing it and didn't want to leave out anything of how I pictured it. Hope you liked it, though! I hope I'll be able to post another one asap. Lots of love! xoxo**


	8. Chapter 7: An anchor

The next thing Emma knew, she was in bed, in the room she had been given in the bunker. She had no recollection of how she got there. Hell, the last thing she remembered was telling Dean that story about Melody falling off her swing when she was little. How much did she really drink?

She got off her bed way too quickly. Bad, bad, bad decision. She groaned in pain and brought her hands to her face as she felt the world's most gruesome headache installing. Aspirin. She needed aspirin before it got a chance to truly hit her. It was already bad as it was.

With tiny steps, moving quiet as a cat, she made her way out of the room and towards the kitchen.

"There she is," he heard Dean's voice booming from the library as he caught glimpse of her. "The lady who can't hold her liquor."

Emma groaned and rubbed her temples.

"Stop yelling," she mumbled. "My bloody head's gonna explode."

Dean was grinning like an idiot and Emma sighed, having been caught and walked into the library.

"Where can I find some aspirin?"

He huffed.

"Hunters don't take aspirin, short stuff. They suck it up."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "You mean to tell me there's no aspirin?" When Dean shrugged, she groaned loudly and landed in a seat next to him, leaning her head into her palms. "I told you we need medical supplies," she muttered, and she heard him sigh.

"Fine. Get dressed and we'll go raid some hospital or something and get your goddamn supplies."

She raised her head and glared at him.

"You want my hangover ass to go raiding?" she raised her voice a little and regretted the decision instantly, when she felt the pain pulsating behind her eyes. Dean simply shrugged.

"I need a backup and Sam and Melody are still sleeping. Besides, I keep my word about not letting you outta my sight, short stuff."

Emma shot him a look.

"You can't tell me you still don't trust me," she spat at him and was surprised when he winked.

"I can never trust a woman, can I?"

He stood up and walked away, letting Emma smiling dumbly after recognizing her own words from the previous day. She got up herself and walked to her room, changing out of the outfit she had worn last night that she had apparently fallen asleep into. She tucked her gun in the belt of her jeans, as usual, and pulled her leather jacket over it. She wasn't a big fan of leather jackets. If it had been up to her, she'd have gone with hoodies, much more comfortable and less of a pain in the ass when it came to moving around on the job. But it had been Melody's idea and, as usual, Emma had had to listen to a half an hour-speech about badassery and how they needed to create an image and a reputation as hunters. And Emma had let her do it. Their lives already sucked as they were, she just didn't have the heart to deny her little sister some harmless pleasures.

She met Dean outside the bunker, leaning on the hood of the Impala. As she stepped into the sunlight, she did her best trying to ignore the throbbing sensation in her head and stay focused. She circled the car and climbed into the passenger seat.

"So," she began as soon as Dean started the engine. "How are we going to do this?"

He looked at her confused.

"You tell me, you're the doctor," he mumbled.

"Firstly, I'm not technically a doctor," she sighed. "And secondly, I do know what we have to get. But you need to lead the way."

"Okay, well," he said. "Do we go for a hospital or do we go for a pharmacy or a drug store?"

Emma thought for a moment.

"Well, we should've done this at night. But we'll take what we can get. Hospitals would only make it more complicated, there's always staff to sneak around on. Some local pharmacy would be easier to break into and it's still too early for any to be open yet. I can get what we need from there."

Dean nodded at her and for the next few minutes, none of them said anything, falling into an awkward silence that neither knew how to fill. You'd think talking to him would be as easy as talking to Melody, Emma thought. But then again, Melody was so stubborn and fixated talking to her was never easy, she added mentally. And Melody didn't have an evil biblical sign constantly nudging at the back of her mind. Emma shifted a little in her seat and her eyes landed on Dean's arm. He was wearing a shirt with his sleeves rolled up enough to reveal his forearms, the Mark resting there, red and swollen. She couldn't even begin to imagine how hard it must've been to constantly try to silence the inner demons. How exhausted and angry he must've been.

"Does it bother you?" she found herself asking him out loud, unable to take her eyes off his arm. "The Mark, I mean."

He didn't answer right away, so Emma was afraid she might have upset him or offended him in any way. But as she searched his face, she saw he was rather haunted than upset.

"All the time," he answered eventually. "I can never shut it up."

"And what are you going to do about it? Is there a way to take it off?" she asked softly.

"I don't know. We've been looking, but so far, we've got jack squat. In the meantime, I have to learn how to get a hold of myself. I need to control it and I have no idea how to do that."

His honest answer took Emma by surprise, but truth is, it was no big deal. Dean wanted her to know this. That he wasn't stable, but that he did try. That she had no reason to trust him, because he was a former monster, but he could be trusted now. And while she didn't trust him as a fellow hunter, Emma did trust him as human.

"If you want to control it, you need to find an anchor," she told him, and he looked at her confused.

"What do you mean an anchor?"

"Something to link you to your true self. Something to keep you human."

She smiled warmly at him and he watched her confused, opening his mouth and closing it a few times, but still unable to say anything. In all honesty, he could see her point. This was a strategy he'd been using for a while now. Sam, as the most important person in his life, had always kept him human. They had kept each other human. But this was different. An anchor, she said. He didn't know how to hold on to an anchor.

"An anchor," he repeated, looking straight ahead. "Might be easier said than done."

Sam slept in for the first time in a very long time. But yeah, then again, he hadn't drunk in a very long time, too. When he walked into the library, Melody was there, with Emma's laptop in her lap, her legs crossed. He chuckled a little.

"Does your sister know you're using her laptop?" he asked her, and Melody smiled up at him when she saw him. She took a moment to appreciate the Winchester genes. Dean was hot, too, but if she were to see both of them in a bar, she'd have definitely gone for Sam. And right now, having just woken up, his eyes a little puffy and his hair looking messy, she scolded herself against giving a sharp appreciative whistle.

"Of course not, I'm not stupid," she answered him.

Sam let out a laugh. If Emma was anything like him, and she was, he assumed she was just as sensitive about her laptop as he was about his. He sat in a chair across from her.

"Why are you researching so early in the morning?" he asked her, and she smiled a little at him.

"Firstly, it's almost noon. We overslept. Dean and Emma left a note saying they left really early to get some medical stuff Emma needs. And secondly, I'm not researching."

He was a little surprised at the fact that Dean and Emma got into business mode so early in the morning, especially since he assumed they both had a killer hangover. But then he caught Melody's expression when she said she wasn't researching. She didn't elaborate, but there was a small frown on her face that reminded him of Dean when he had something on his chest.

"Then what are you doing?" he asked her softly.

Melody sighed.

"Just hacking some accounts and stalking my old best friends," she answered with a bitter smile.

He waited for her to explain and at some point, he was sure she wouldn't. After all, she had no reason to, and he didn't want to push her. But after a few minutes of silence, she sighed and spoke up.

"I do that regularly. Check up on people. I don't know, I guess I need to make sure they're doing fine without me. I mean, I know forgetting about us was the best choice for them, but I had these two best friends in high school, Mina and Anastasia."

She smiled sadly and looked up, trying to blink back the tears.

"Those girls were awesome. They were tiny pieces of myself. Mina was like a kitten, she could do endless stupid things and you'd end up loving her anyway, she was adorable, not the least bit judgmental, and Anastasia was kind and selfless, she could come off as shy, but ended up being the walking proof that appearances are deceiving. They were the kind of friends everyone wants. We talked about going to college together. Having this great life. I guess I'm just glad to know they stuck to the plan even they're down on one man."

She sighed loudly and Sam watched her take a deep breath. He was silent for a minute before speaking.

"It's never easy," he told her. "Leaving people behind. This life. It's never easy. And it must've been pretty rough on you, finding yourselves thrown into the middle of it with everything to figure out on your own."

"Yeah, I guess it was," she admitted and shot him a sad smile. "Not so much for me, though. I do like the thrill of the hunt. I couldn't have just stayed put, hiding in a rabbit hole. If I go down, I go down swinging."

Sam chuckled at how much she sounded like Dean.

"But?" he prompted, sensing a 'but' in her words.

"But it was really tough on Emma. Giving up her dreams like this. She barely spoke a word in the first few weeks. I mean, we found ourselves in Seattle, with no money, nothing at all but shitloads of questions. We had to adapt fast. Stole a car, picked some pockets, got ourselves arrested a few times. Then we started asking questions. We knew about the angels, it was just a matter of time until we learned the actual truth about what's really out there. This whole time, Emma had to keep it together. For me. She had to keep going so that she could keep me going. And the worst part is, I talked her into hunting. She wanted to lay low, but I convinced her that we needed to take action. And I can't even bring myself to blame myself for it. I know she's miserable, I know she hates it, but I need to hunt. If I had to have anything taken away from me, might as well not let to go to waste. Emma doesn't like it, but she knows how I feel and she does it all for me. I'm an awful sister."

She chuckled humorlessly.

"Hey, don't beat yourself up," Sam told her, a note of gentleness in his voice that caught Melody off guard. "I know how she feels and she most certainly doesn't blame you."

Melody sighed and looked at him unconvinced.

"You know, I actually quit hunting at some point."

"You did?" Melody questioned.

"Yeah. I went to college. Got a nice girlfriend. I had every intention of marrying her. I had just finished pre-law when Dean showed up at my door and dragged me along with him on a hunt about 10 years ago. By the time I got back home, Jess had been killed."

Melody could see that, although it had all happened 10 years ago, it was still something that haunted him. She couldn't help but wonder if Emma would have the same tormented look in her eyes when she thought about her life in med school and her ex-boyfriend. She wanted to say something to Sam. To tell him she was sorry about Jess. But she knew it wouldn't help. So she settled for a silence that said it all, comforting for both of them, and Sam was actually glad that Melody didn't deliver him some pitiful line. He could tell she was the kind of person who never said things that didn't need to be said.

"So yeah, I know you do beat yourself up, because my brother does it, too," he continued. "So, don't. Emma doesn't blame you like I don't blame Dean. What you _can_ do is be her anchor. Keep her sane. You're all she's got."

Melody watched him wide-eyed. Eventually, the corners of her lips curved a little into a small smile.

"We're both all we've got, aren't we?" she replied. "Just like you and Dean."

Sam shrugged, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. And truth is, it was.

"You and my sister really have a way with words," she narrowed her eyes playfully at him, and he laughed.

Before he had a chance to reply, he heard Dean's voice booming.

"I'm telling you, short stuff, a bunch of pills isn't worth nearly getting caught! Booze is the only painkiller a hunter needs, period."

"You'd better remember that when you're ripped apart again by some monster and yell in pain," Sam and Melody heard Emma's annoyed voice. "When you'll be begging for painkillers like a wuss."

"We've been ripped apart and we did fine without painkillers before," Dean turned on his heels and spat at her right before they entered the library.

Emma groaned in anger.

"How did it go?" Melody asked reluctantly, the tension between them so thick you could cut it with a knife.

"We nearly got caught," Dean explained. "Because Tinkerbell here thought she needed mountains of painkillers, different kinds of bandages, betadine and some other bunch of medicines I can't even pronounce."

Emma rolled her eyes.

"Fine, have it your way," she said as she dropped the bag of supplied on the table. "I'm too tired to argue with you. I'll go take a shower."

She left the room before anyone else got a chance to say anything and made her way to her room. Dean Winchester really knew how to get on your nerves.

She stripped of her leather jacket and placed her gun on the nightstand and she was about to go for her clothes when she heard a knock on the door. She groaned and closed her eyes, not turning around because she was sure it was either Dean or Melody. She was stupid to even be surprised by how Dean got on her nerves considering her sister had the same exact talent.

"I just want a shower, is that so much to ask?" she whined. "I swear to God, leave me alone so that I can take my friggin' shower before I break your kneecaps."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to disturb you."

She turned around quickly when she heard the voice, eyes wide open. The last person she had expected to see was now standing in her doorway. Castiel.

"Cas," she breathed and blushed, remembering her threat. "I'm sorry. That wasn't meant for you. I thought Dean or Melody were here to bug me again. Is everything okay?"

The angel nodded and looked at her through his long lashes. He looked more like a kid than an angel. For the past five years, she had been programmed to believe that angels were real soldiers. Focused, merciless, cruel. Cas was nothing like that. His wide blue eyes gave him an aura of innocence and made him look trustworthy.

"Yes, everything is fine, for the time being," he answered her question. "I realized I haven't had the chance to apologize."

Emma frowned.

"Apologize? For what?"

"For taking you away from your loved ones and leaving you alone with no other form of help on my behalf. I just wanted you to know it was—"

"It was the only way," Emma closed her eyes and cut him off, smiling sadly. "Yes, Cas, I know that. You have nothing to be sorry for. My friends and family are safe. Me and Melody, we've been safe for five years. We pulled through. We should be grateful and you shouldn't be sorry."

Cas smiled sheepishly.

"Thank you, Emma. You're a good person."

Emma returned his smile.

"So, is that what you wanted to tell me?"

"Actually, no," he answered. "I think I found a way to defeat the angels."

**A.N. Here you go, my friends. It took me a while, but I got around to it. I'm really happy this story has quite a few followers! This chapter was a tad too simple, I know that, but we're getting to it. Shit gets serious. Eventually. I'll update again as soon as I can. Lots of love!**


	9. Chapter 8: For all that's worth

Emma took a deep breath, trying to process Castiel's words. She was unable to speak for a few seconds, and then she exhaled and focused her eyes on him.

"You think you know a way to defeat the angels," she spoke slowly.

"Yes, I do," he answered. "It won't be easy and it requires a great level of—"

"Whoa," she held her hands in front of her, trying to slow him down and process what he was saying. "Hold on. Let me get the others and we'll talk about this."

"I don't think you should do that yet," Cas told her reluctantly. "You should hear this first. As I said, this will require a great amount of self-sacrifice."

Emma frowned and watched him expectantly. "Sacrifice? Cas, what do you mean? You're starting to scare me."

She motioned for him to come in and closed the door behind him and then she sat on the bed as she watched him pull a chair and sit in front of her.

"Okay, tell me," she prompted. "What are you talking about?"

"I've been asking questions," he began. "It wasn't easy, not with my reputation and how I'm regarded among the angels, but the answers were all built on the same foundation. The only way to do that is through really powerful angel grace."

Emma nodded, biting her lip, like she always did when she was thinking, wearing a small frown between her eyebrows.

"Okay," she said eventually. "Angel grace. We can work with that. You've got angel mojo. And you said Melody and I—"

"I don't have my grace anymore," he interrupted her, looking at her almost apologetically with his clear blue eyes. "It was… Stolen from me. Used for a spell that cast the angels out of heaven."

Emma's eyebrows shot up. "Wait, what? You don't have angel grace?!"

"I do now. But it's not mine. It's also stolen and it's fading. It would do us no good."

Emma was watching him wide-eyed and she wondered how many things she still didn't know. She was aware of the fact that the Winchesters had quite a reputation since this was, after all, one of the reasons they hadn't wanted to stick with them. And she was also aware that reputation was gained. She knew about the apocalypse business, but how many more times had they messed up? She had a feeling there were way too many things to catch up to.

"Okay," she said slowly, still processing. "If yours is off the list, then what about me and Melody? Is there something we can do?"

Cas looked at her, frowning, as if this was the thing he had hoped she wouldn't ask so that he wouldn't have to answer.

"I thought so, too," he admitted. "But the grace that's left in you is merely an imprint. Angels use grace as fuel; for you and your sister, it's part of how your souls were designed."

Emma threw her hands in the air. "Then I don't understand. If neither of these options work, then what do we do?"

Castiel sighed.

"What I'm saying is, you and Melody don't have enough grace in either of you to make it happen. But if one of you had both of these amounts, it might suffice."

He looked at her expectantly, waiting for the words to register in her head, and a few seconds later, Emma frowned and returned his gaze.

"Are you saying—" she trailed off, grasping the concept, but unable to outline the idea and put it into words.

"I'm saying if one of you could cumulate both of these potentials, maybe the grace could be used an offensive strategy. It wouldn't be stronger than actual angel grace, but your grace is different. Special. Handled properly, we might have a chance."

Emma stood up from the bed and walked past Cas, confused and dizzy. Was he suggesting what she thought he was suggesting? Because if he was, it was a twisted idea.

"So, let me get this straight," she snapped a little at him when he stood up and followed her with his eyes as she was pacing back and forth. "We _might _stand a chance if I had both mine and my sister's grace? How's that an option?"

Cas sighed, not bothering to hide the fact that he didn't like this any more than she did.

"You can have your sister's grace," he explained slowly. "It's an option because one of you can absorb the other's grace and learn how to channel it so that it can be handled as a weapon."

"Oh my God," Emma breathed, rubbing her temples and closing her eyes. "So, the only way to defeat the angels is through absorbing angel grace from my own sister."

"Not necessarily," Cas tried to comfort her. "She can absorb yours, too. This is something you and Melody will have to think through."

Emma shook her head.

"No," she said fiercely. "That's not up for discussion. If it comes down to confrontation, I don't want her to be involved. I don't want her to get hurt. She's been through enough already and I have to take care of her. This is something I have to do."

Her eyes were a little teary, but her voice steady and Cas could see the determination in her eyes. He had been human himself. He knew how most feelings felt like. But people had a way of constantly surprising him, they were beautifully unpredictable. Emma Bennett was even more exceptional. It was actually surprising. The only person Cas had ever found exceptionally exceptional had been Dean, and although Melody was his doppelganger, there was something about Emma that took him aback. All of Sam's qualities that he admired, merged into this little woman, who was able to be both kind-hearted, pure and strong-willed. Cas could catch a glimpse of her soul. It shone brightly, a light purple, loaded by the heavy burdens she was bearing. He could see that she wasn't happy with the life she was living and he found himself wishing he could change that. It was still partly his fault after all.

"Okay," she took a deep breath and faced him. "Let's go talk to Melody and the boys."

"No, no, no," Melody spat. "Absolutely freaking not."

Emma sighed. She couldn't say she hadn't seen it coming, Melody bitching out about this, willing to throw herself head-first into another dangerous heroic mission. And Emma would always let her do so, knowing her sister found peace in it, but this time was different. She wasn't going to back down. If it had to be her life or Melody's, she'd gladly lay down her head and take the blow before letting Mel get hurt.

"It's not up for discussion," Emma hissed.

"Oh, of course it's not," Melody spat. "It never is. You get to call the shots and I just have to obey, right?"

Sam and Dean shifted uncomfortably and Cas was clearly oblivious to the tension in the room, while Emma was staring with her mouth wide open at her sister.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means you can't keep protecting me like I'm some precious piece of porcelain that's bound to break any minute," Melody screamed. "I'm not! I'm fine and you always act like that's the most absurd thing you've ever heard. You're so willing to sacrifice yourself that you can't even see that I want to do this!"

Emma's eyes were fixated on her sister and Melody thought she saw a glimpse of doubt there. But she knew better. She could see that Emma knew she was right, but she wasn't backing down. It was in her nature.

"This isn't some random hunt to fuel your adrenaline," Emma spoke slowly, in a deep voice. "If things go bad and one of us has to go down, it'd rather be me than you. You've already lost this chance once. I'm not letting you give it up again, not if I can prevent it."

Melody clenched her jaw and raised her chin defiantly.

"You obviously don't understand," she said bitterly. "Fine. Have it your way. It's not like I can change your mind. You always know better, right?"

She turned on her heels and walked away angrily, and Emma pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Melody—" She wanted to say something to make it better, something to make her understand, but even if she could've been able to come up with anything, Mel was already gone and they could all hear her slamming the door of her room.

Emma sighed and let herself sink into the nearest chair, the talk with her sister exhausting her. No one said a word, the three men all watching her cautiously, as if she were to spontaneously combust any second now.

"I'm fine," she said, eventually, tired of their stares. "She'll come around."

Sam put a hand on her shoulder.

"You want me to go talk to her?" he asked her softly. "She won't talk to you, she obviously won't talk to Dean because they're too much alike. Maybe she'll listen to me. If I can handle my brother, I think I can deal with Melody. Okay?"

Emma smiled a little and nodded and Sam ruffled her hair before going to find Mel. She hoped he could talk her down, but her sister was notoriously stubborn and known for not listening. But it was worth a shot. She didn't have the energy to argue with her again.

"I'm going to see what else I can find out," Cas announced as soon as he was left alone with Dean and Emma. "I'll be back tomorrow to help you with the grace transfer if Melody makes up her mind."

Dean and Emma nodded and she expected to hear the ruffle of wings before the angel disappeared, but Castiel simply walked out the front door. She raised an eyebrow at Dean.

"Why doesn't he zap himself where he needs to be?" she asked him.

"Because he doesn't have his wings anymore. His grace was stolen when–"

"Yeah, I know," she cut him off. "When the angels were cast out of heaven and his grace was used for the spell. I just didn't think it had something to do with his wings."

Dean nodded and they slipped into an awkward silence. Emma was lost in her thoughts and Dean wasn't sure what he could say to make it easier on her. Nothing about this was easy. He went and sat in front of her and she didn't even notice until he opened his mouth and spoke.

"You know," he began slowly. "I trust your judgement about this. I know you wanna do it. I know you think it's the right thing to do. But you don't have to."

"Dean—"

"No, just hear me out. I'm not trying to talk you out of it. I'm just saying that it's your choice if you wanna do it, but keep in mind that there's a choice whatsoever. She can do this, too. But if you do decide to, I trust you with it."

She watched him, surprised, for a few seconds, before smiling a little at him and nodding. She felt the sting of tears in the corner of her eyes, but she tried to blink them back, took a deep breath and let out a nervous chuckle.

"It's funny," she said. "I thought you'd agree with Melody and try to defend her."

He smiled to himself and Emma wondered what was going on in his head.

"I was going to," he admitted. "I can't say I don't see her point. I did that for Sammy plenty of times. I wouldn't think twice or blink before placing myself between him and any blade."

Emma flinched a little. She knew Melody was like this, too. That was the main reason why she tried to keep her as safe as possible. She knew that, had the chance risen, Melody wouldn't bat an eyelash before sacrificing herself for it. Melody jumped head-first in any battle if it came to protecting her sister. So Emma didn't bat an eyelash when it came to giving anything up for her, too. It was a vicious circle.

"But me and Sammy, we've been through something like this," Dean continued, thinking about the time when Sam took on completing the trials for closing the gates of hell. "I was going to sacrifice myself and do something really dangerous, but then Sam ended up doing it and almost died in the process. So, yeah, I understand Melody when she says she doesn't want you to go easy on her and bear this burden. Watching Sammy do that was the hardest thing I ever had to do."

His eyes lost focus for a while and Emma watched him through his recollection. Judging by the pained look in his eyes, it clearly wasn't easy. She was about to tell him that, when he surprised her by cupping her chin, and gazing into her eyes.

"But there's a difference," he told her. "Me and Melody, we're basically the same. But you and I, we're the older siblings. We ought to take care of 'em. That, I can relate to. So you do watcha gotta do. I trust you."

She couldn't tear her gaze away from him for a couple of minutes, but as his words registered, she let a small smile curve her lips and nodded at him.

Sam knocked twice.

"Melody?"

There was no answer. He knocked again.

"Melody, it's Sam. Can I talk to you?"

He thought he'd stay outside her door for quite a while before she actually answered, considering she was pretty pissed. He thought he'd kinda have to sweet talk her through the door when she heard a click and she opened the door, before stepping away and letting him enter, sighing loudly.

"Save you speech and tell Emma I don't need a babysitter," she said bitterly, turning her back on him and absent-mindedly folding some clothes to avoid looking at him. He didn't want anyone to see her so affected by this whole situation and she didn't trust herself to keep the hard face much longer.

Sam smiled at her, although she couldn't see him.

"Emma didn't send me to babysit you and I'm not here to deliver a speech."

"Yeah, right," she huffed. "Then what are you here for?"

"I'm here to make sure you're fine."

Melody pinched the bridge of her nose.

"If I say I'm okay, will you leave me alone?"

She could hear Sam chuckle lightly.

"You can try to mean it and I can promise I will," he answered.

She turned to him abruptly and seeing her so flushed and angry and so close to losing control made his smile die on his lips. She was clearly not okay.

"I'm not," she admitted, keeping her voice low and fighting to remain calm. "But it doesn't matter. Now can you _please_ leave me be?"

She turned back to folding clothes and Sam took a step toward her, with the intention of putting a hand on her shoulder, but he had the feeling that touching her might not be the best idea.

"Of course it matters," Sam tried to keep his voice warm and even. "You can't beat yourself up about this. It was Emma's choice."

"Yes, Sam, it does matter," she raised her voice, her little control starting to fade. "And it's because it was Emma's choice that I beat myself up."

"Look, Melody, your sister's choices—"

"Save it, Sam," she turned around again and Sam could see a glint of tears dancing in her eyes. He wouldn't have taken Melody for the kind of girl who cried, but knowing that Dean cried, too, when his soul was truly heavy, he assumed it was the same with her. This whole thing was really hard on her and he wasn't sure why. "Don't go telling me how my sister's choices don't define me and how there's nothing I can do because she's already made up her mind and I have to live with the fact that she's already given up everything and she's giving herself up a little more every day for me and now she has to give up herself for good _for me _while I stand here feeling useless!"

Sam froze for a few moments, watching her breathe heavily. So that's what this was about. He went to stand in front of her and put both her hands in front of her, forcing her to face him. She raised her head to look at him and Sam doubted she ever let too many people see her so vulnerable.

"Melody, listen to me—" he spoke softly, but she just shrugged his hands away and stepped away from him.

"No, I don't want to listen anymore! I've been doing this for the past five years! I've listened to my sister and watched her responsibly watch out for me, Sam, and I can't do it anymore. I can't watch her do that anymore, I can't watch her give anything else up! She thinks she's strong, but I know she's not! She stays strong, but she's vulnerable and she still gets to dive in and fight this crazy fight while I stand back and feel completely useless! What good am I if I can't even protect her against herself?"

There were tears gathered in the corners of her eyes threatening to flood down her cheeks and Sam could tell she was fighting with all her might to not let them flow. He crossed the room again and went to her and cupped her cheeks in his big, calloused hands.

"Listen to me, Melody," he spoke fiercely, in a low voice, capturing her attention. She wasn't used to Sam being so harsh and straight-forward. "You are anything but useless. Remember what I told you about the anchor? Be that for your sister. She needs you. She loves you. Give her the right to put what she loves most first, if that's what she wants. The least you can do is be there for her in the process."

She was looking at him, crying for good by now, and he pulled her a little closer, tightening his grip on her.

"Don't you ever think you're useless," he repeated. "You're an amazing hunter and a great sister. You're not useless."

She couldn't do anything else but nod at him, barely aware of what he said, but for that moment, she trusted him enough to believe every word he told her. Sam pulled her closer and wrapped his arms gently around her and she sobbed into his chest until she forgot what she was crying about. Then she pulled away, nodded to let him know she was going to be fine, and Sam smiled and left, not buying it at all, but knowing that she would, eventually, be fine. They both would. The Bennett sisters were built in the Winchester system. They were built to pull through.

**A.N. Here you go, folks, chapter 8. Over 3000 words, again, and I had to end it short because it was getting too long and because it's late and I have to go to sleep and I really wanted to update asap. Becaaaaause, we're at 1200 views and I can't possibly tell you how happy I am that you guys actually like this story! Well, I hope you liked this chapter and I've got plenty up my sleeve, so stay tuned, folks. Lots of love!**


	10. Chapter 9: Broken Frames

Emma didn't see Melody anymore that day. She figured she had to give her sister a little privacy and avoid stepping on her feet. She knew Mel could be stubborn and really sensitive sometimes, so she preferred to wait until morning cleared up their thoughts.

So the next morning, Emma walked into the library, already half expecting Melody not to be there. She wasn't. She only saw Cas, sitting in a chair expectantly. He raised his head when he saw Emma come in.

"Hey, Cas," Emma mumbled groggily. "What's the word?"

"Good morning, Emma," he greeted her. "I haven't been able to find out anything new. Guesses mostly. This case, it's unheard of. You should know the risks. We are going blindly, so please let me know if you change your mind. We'll find another way."

"There's no other way."

Emma had opened her mouth to say these exact words, but they didn't belong to her. She turned around to see Melody standing a few feet away from her, arms crossed over her chest and looking utterly exhausted. She had dark circles under her eyes, as if she had stayed up all night trying to answer unanswerable questions. Maybe she had. Emma had, that's for sure.

"I don't have to like it," Melody sighed, as if it physically pained her to have to give in. "And I assure you I don't. But there's no other way. I wish it were me who carried this burden instead of you. But I can't stop you."

Emma smiled at her and tried to say something, but Melody raised a finger at her to silence her.

"But," she warned her. "Don't think for a second that if this gets rough and you can't handle it anymore, I won't stop you. Because I swear to God, Emma, I will, by all means."

Mel was shaking a little and she looked on the verge of tears, so instead of saying anything, Emma closed the gap between them and wrapped her arms around her little sister, wishing she could've just taken her away for good, kept her safe from all the mess they had to swim their way through.

"Okay," she whispered into her sister's shoulder.

"I'm afraid you won't be able to," Cas stepped in apologetically as the girls broke away. "Once Emma's down this road, she won't be able to back down even if she wanted to. This fight demands all or nothing."

Emma knew that, but when she saw Melody clenching her fists and shaking her head, she couldn't tell her. Her sister needed hope. She could have used some herself, if she was completely honest with herself.

"I don't care," Melody hissed. "She comes first. Those angels can shove their stupid fight up their asses. I'm not letting her get hurt. She's already in too deep."

Emma was a little taken aback by the fervor that her sister spoke with, a little scared, even. She often forgot Melody wasn't the same girl she was when they left the U.K. She had been 16 back then. Her world revolved around high school, her friends, homework, having fun with her friends and making a suitable choice for her future. Somehow she had ended up hunting monsters and running from angels. She had been forced to grow up really fast and focus on surviving. But she was 21 now, and Emma often found that hard to process. Her little sister could not only take care of herself, but also worry about Emma and try to protect her as well. They had started off as an older sibling responsible for the younger one, but they had ended up as equals watching out for each other and this partly frightened Emma. Melody would've been a lot safer had she stayed a little sister. So she put her arm around Mel's shoulder and gave it a light, reassuring squeeze.

"Aww, look at that, Sammy," Dean's voice boomed as the brothers came into the library. "The chipmunk sisters kissed and made up."

The girls rolled their eyes and Melody sighed, turning to Cas.

"So, Cas," she said. "How are we going to do this?"

Castiel looked a little troubled, but managed to pull himself together.

"This process requires full concentration," he instructed. "I'm not even entirely sure how or whether it'll work."

"Wait, wait, wait," Sam cut him off. "What do you mean you don't know? And you're just letting them do this blindly? Cas, it might be dangerous. You're risking their lives."

"Sam," Emma turned to him. "We have to do it either way. There's no other option. We can't keep living like this, hiding beneath rocks and hoping we won't be jumped as soon as we step out of the bunker. Because I don't know about you guys, but I intend to see the sunlight again."

"I feel ya, short stuff," Dean mocked. "But at least wait until Cas finds a safer way to do it. Don't rush into something reckless. This thing could get you hurt."

"There's no time, Dean," Cas stepped in when Emma meant to disagree with Dean. "Our luck's already being pushed. The longer we wait, the more dangerous it gets. I'm aware of the risks, but we'll just have to take our chances."

"Cas—" Dean began to intrude and Emma could see a little warning between the cuts of his frown, just when Sam was also starting to say something.

"Guys," Melody snapped. "Just stop already, alright? We're big girls, and we decided to go for it, okay? Cas is right, any second we waste is a step the angels could be taking on a lead to us. So, how dangerous is this thing exactly?"

The boys had to admit she was right. The odds were already closing in on them and they couldn't even say they were running out of options because they hadn't really had any so far. And they admired the girls' determination. Well, Dean still thought it was a pretty stupid plan and that they were sort of playing some Russian roulette here, but he told himself that, had it been him and Sam, they would've probably do the same thing. They had, countless of times. They held the record for stupid plans and recklessness.

"Usually, extracting grace from a human being is a painful process," Cas began to explain, and the girls could see Sam flinch a little. "But this shouldn't be necessary, considering as it's more of a transfer than an extraction."

"Okay," Melody nodded, frowning. "Then how do we do it?"

"That's what I'm trying to figure out," Cas sighed. "In this case, the only experience I've had was stealing grace."

Dean raised his eyebrows. "You mean like cutting throats and swallowing down blue shiny smoke?"

"It doesn't have to be cutting throats," Castiel explained. "As far as I can tell, a mere incision for the grace to go out through might work."

The boys were still trying to think it through when Melody reached for her boot and pulled out her pocket knife, twisting it between her fingers.

"Works for me," she said. "Let's do this. So I just nick my neck and Emma opens her mouth and catches the shiny thingy?"

Emma snickered a little, but Cas seemed unaffected by Mel's sarcasm. To be entirely honest, Emma doubted anything ever affected him. He wasn't as stiff as the other angels and from what she understood, he had even been human for a little while. But he still had thousands of years when he was programmed to just obey, so she had the feeling human nature still felt a little estranged to him.

"A cut on your wrist would work just fine," Cas told her. "And Emma doesn't need to do anything. Your grace will be attracted by hers naturally. It's pure energy that seeks similar energy. If I'm right about this, things should go smoothly."

"And what if you're not?" Dean asked, but he didn't even get to finish her sentence, that Melody had already rolled up her sleeve, revealing her strong, feminine arms. It was a funny comparison. Both girls used their hands to do the hard work, because hunting did require some effort, especially for a woman. But theirs looked different. Melody's were still girlish, but muscular and skilled, while her sister's were small, also strong, but with thin fingers and small palms and delicate movements in spite of how lethal she was with guns. Melody's hands looked made for fighting or fixing up cars. Emma's looked made for painting.

Melody looked at her sister, her knife hovering over the skin on her forearm, and Emma nodded, so she sank the blade into her flesh, drips of blood rolling down to her elbow. For a few seconds, nothing happened, so Emma got closer to take a look. But as closer as she got, Mel felt a tingling in her body, then in her whole arm, and then it focused over the cut on her forearm and suddenly, the wound started to shine bright blue. And that's when it started for Melody. She was mesmerized at first, seeing the grace glowing, but as it started to flow from her, it was as if she was ripping pieces of her very soul. She shrieked in pain as the first strand of light caught a shape above the cut and she fell to her knees.

"Mel!" Emma shouted as she put her arms around her sister's shoulder, but her proximity only accelerated the process and sharpened Mel's pain, who gave another shriek.

"Cas, what's happening?" Emma heard Dean ask through a haze. All she mattered to her now was that her sister was in pain. She breathed heavily, tightening her grip on Mel, wishing there was anything she could've done about her pain. She would've done anything. Anything to make it go away.

"It's the grace leaving her body," Cas explained, and Emma's eyes flew to him, hanging to his every word. "That grace was a part of her very soul. Her essence. Giving it up means giving up a part of herself."

"Then make it stop!" Emma shouted. "We'll figure out something else, make it go away!"

She felt Melody's hand gripping her arm and she looked down at her sister.

"No," Mel breathed, her face pale and covered in cold sweat. "No. No other. Way. Okay."

Emma felt the sting of tears in the corner of her eyes, but she nodded anyway and closed her eyes, hoping she could find a way to at least make it faster, pull the grace into her so that she could end Melody's agony. As soon as she did close her eyes, she felt something like a trick of light inside her, tingling and aching. With every breath she took, she felt that trick of light craving, growing hungry and she started to feel Melody's grace flow into her, filling her, bathing her, completing her. It was like closing your eyes and turning your face towards the sun on a bright summer day, warm and enlightening. She tried to make the most of this feeling and live it at its fullest, hoping it would fasten the whole thing, and indeed, a couple of minutes later, the flow stopped and she felt Melody's body damp in her arms. Emma opened her eyes and saw that her sister breathed heavily, but steady. Mel shot her a smile and she felt Sam's strong arms pulling her up and helping her sit on a chair. Emma grabbed a cloth and put pressure on Melody's cut to stop the bleeding and looked at her worried.

"Are you okay?" she asked her.

"I am now," Mel answered, her voice weak. "It sucked, but I'm fine. How're you feeling?"

"Yeah, did it work?" Emma heard Dean's voice behind her, and she shot him a little smile over her shoulder.

"Yeah, I guess it did."

She saw Castiel approach her lightly, too, a little skeptical.

"How does it feel, Emma? Do you feel any different?"

She thought for a moment. She did feel different. Hell, to say she felt different would've been an understatement. But she wasn't sure she could quite put her finger on how she felt. It was hard to grasp that concept yet since she was caught between her dizzy head and worrying for her sister.

"I feel lighter," she decided. "Purified. Ask me after I'll have processed this whole crap."

She chuckled a little and got on her feet, feeling dizzier by the second. The moment she stood up, the headache hit. She gasped a little and rubbed her temples, but it didn't make it any better. In fact, it was growing progressively and she was vaguely aware by people talking around her. All she could hear was a loud thump in her ears, occasionally accompanied by deafening shrieks. She felt her stomach twist and suddenly everything surrounding her became too bright, too loud, too intense, too much. In the end, her knees gave in and she collapsed into someone's arms and it all went dark.

She woke up hours later, still dizzy, lying on her bed, surrounded by the Winchesters, by Cas, and with Melody sitting on the side of her bed. Emma opened her eyes slightly and took it all in. They all looked crazy worried. And then she felt that energy from before bursting inside of her, like she was about to spontaneously combust any moment. She let escape a small moan in pain and she instantly regretted it when she saw the look on their faces.

"I'm fine," she tried to assure them, but her voice came out broken, so she merely confirmed their worries.

"Stop playing Joan of Arc, short stuff," Dean scolded her. "We know you're not. That stunt you just pulled means you're clearly not okay."

"But you have to tell us, Emma," Sam continued. "Tell us how you feel and let us help you."

She gave a tired smile and even this little gesture exhausted her and made her insides burn. Eventually, she decided to go for the truth. It was no use insisting she was fine since she couldn't even move.

"I feel like I'm going to explode," she admitted and she saw Cas sigh.

"That's a possibility I failed to consider," he frowned. "The fact that you're human."

Melody and the boys seemed to be familiar with this idea, since their faces were unreadable, so Emma's eyebrows were the only one who flew up.

"There's a reason it's called angel grace," Cas explained. "It wasn't meant for humans. This is why we need certain chosen vessels in order to possess a human body, why only certain people are capable of hearing our voices or perceiving us in our true form. Angel grace is a celestial force and your body is having a hard time containing it."

She shook her head slightly.

"Wait, but one does this mean?" she asked softly. "Do I have to give it up? Am I going to literally explode? Because my head surely feels like it."

Cas shook his head and looked at her apologetically.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I don't know. I think that if it were to kill you, it would've done it instantly. It's been hours already. So, my best guess is, you'll have to learn to live with it and control it."

Dean huffed.

"Look at her, Cas," he snapped. "I could say she's a walking mess, but she can't even walk. How do you expect her to ever live with that thing inside her?"

"Whoa," Emma said, frowning a little, his words scratching her ego a little bit. "Thanks for the credit, Winchester."

His eyes widened, realizing how that may have sounded.

"I didn't mean it like—"

"I know what you meant," she said, closing her eyes and trying to dim the fire burning inside her chest. "Just stop talking. I don't care. Cas, how do I control it?"

"Emma—"

It was the first time Melody spoke since Emma woke up and Emma took her time to study her sister. Mel looked exhausted. Not like Emma was, but exhausted nonetheless, and there was a hint of desperation in her eyes that she hoped she'd never get to see there. It killed her. But seeing the state she was in, Emma was still glad she had made the choice of taking this off Melody's shoulders. Had the roles been reversed, she couldn't have taken it seeing her so worn off.

"Cas," Emma ignored her sister, knowing she would only protest. "How do I control it?"

The angel smiled the first real smile since Emma knew him. Not pitiful, not grateful, not that half awkward smile. A nice, full smile, barely revealing his teeth, but from the bottom of his feathery heart.

"This is why I'm here for," he answered. "I'll help you figure it all out."

Emma smiled back at him and she found herself a tad taken aback by the angel's kindness. She had gotten used to the idea that Castiel was different, but constantly being reminded of it was still a pleasant surprise on every occasion. There was warmth in his clear blue eyes, true selflessness. Cas was, in the literal way that she had been raised to believe, an angel.

"Thank you," she whispered at him, and then she turned to Melody. "How are you feeling?"

Melody shrugged.

"I'll live," she answered bitterly. "I mean, I recovered quickly enough. I feel like I've been stripped of a part of who I am and Cas says it's normal, but I'll be fine. I just need to hunt."

Emma's eyes widened slightly.

"Melody," she scolded her little sister. "You have to rest and gather your strength. You can't just launch yourself into hunting again so fast. Have you gone mad? Guys!"

She turned to the boys, who simply shrugged. The last thing they wanted was to get involved into a women argument. Even they weren't that suicidal.

"Save your speech, Em," Melody told her, smiling sadly. "You can't convince me. I already found a job and I'm going. I need to keep myself distracted."

That shut Emma up. In all fairness, this was the first time in five years that Mel admitted that something was hard on her and that she _needed_ to hunt. And secondly, she knew her sister well enough to admit that refusing to deal with a problem and bury it deep was something Melody needed in order to move on. So she sighed and turned to the boys.

"You're not letting her go by herself, are you?" she tried to look threatening, but in her state, only managed to pull off a drunken-like narrow-eyed glance.

"Of course not," Sam smiled at her. "We're all going. It's a nice smooth job. A coven of witches in a small town in Ohio. We should be back in a couple of days, which should give you and Cas enough time to sort this out, right, Cas?"

Castiel nodded and Emma tried hardly not to blush. Angel or not, Cas or not, stiff or not, being alone with a man in the bunker for two days wasn't something Emma looked forward to. It's Cas, she told herself though. You'll both be just fine.

"Just take care," she mumbled pathetically at them and trying to squeeze Melody's hand. She smiled and kissed Emma on the forehead and the three of them went off to pack their things for the hunt, Cas sneaking out himself after them and letting her get some more rest.

And rest was pretty much what she needed right now. She felt like an immense, condensed star, like the flame inside her chest was consuming her and fueling her at the same time. It was an exhausting cycle. But she'd learn to control it. She promised herself this after seeing the haunted look on Melody's face. If it was the last thing she did, she'd bring back that glint in her sister's eyes and she already had an angel blade with Raziel's name on it.

**Hey guys! Sorry I was a little late with this chapter, I had a killer! week. Anyway, there you go! Hope you liked it. This one was centered more on the girls, with the whole grace and stuff and I promise the next one will be delivered to you ASAP! Let me know what you think and what you think will happen next, haha! Lots of love, xoxo.**


	11. Chapter 10: Back in black

"Okay, fill me in," Melody demanded from the backseat of the Impala as they sailed the road to Ohio. "What's the word on this case?"

"A man accidentally shredded himself with a land mower," Dean started to explain. "A woman accidentally drowns in a hot tub. And my personal favorite, a woman is run over by her own car. Repeatedly. We're thinking witches."

"But how can you be so sure?" Mel asked. "There could be plenty of other things, too. Take ghost possession, for starters."

"We have our sources," Sam stepped in. "There's this cop whose life we saved a while back who lives in town. He's the one who called us in and we had him scoop up the crime scenes. Any guess on what he found?"

Melody pursed her lips. "Since we're going with witches, I assume hex bags."

"Damn right hex bags," Dean said.

"Freaking witches, man," Melody murmured, thinking about the murders, and Sam stifled a laugh at how Dean-like she had sounded. "At least it looks like a pretty clean job."

"You could say that," Sam admitted. "All we gotta do is find out who they are and we'll go from there. But with witches, it's almost never clean."

She nodded and let herself slip into silence, not feeling particularly chatty. Truth is, she didn't even know how she felt. If she felt anything at all at the moment, she had chosen to bury it deep down inside, not even letting it nudge the farthest back of her mind. So maybe empty inside was pretty much the best way to describe the current state of her mind. After all, she had had a piece of her soul ripped out. If she allowed herself to even think about it, let alone grasp the feeling, she wouldn't be able to recover from it. The boys, however, had no such thoughts. She felt their glares in the rearview mirror practically drilling holes through her skull. She fully intended to ignore them, but it grew so irritating she couldn't hold it in anymore.

"What?" she snapped eventually.

Dean averted his eyes, playing cool, like he had no idea what she was talking about, which made her want to punch him even harder. Sam, on the other hand, went straight to the subject.

"Are you okay?" he asked her, concerned. "Yesterday was pretty crazy and I've had my fair share of soul violation to know it was awfully hard on you."

"You had your fair share of what?" she shrieked, and Sam smiled sadly.

"It's a long story. So how are you holding up?"

"I'm fine, Sam. I mean, I'm not in the peachiest mood, naturally, but I'll be alright."

"You sure about that, Rapunzel?" Dean chimed in. "Because I know a thing or two about running away from your issues and repressed feelings and denial and I'm tellin' ya, it ain't pretty."

"I'm not denying anything and I'm not running away from my issues," Mel rolled her eyes. "I just need to temporarily shut them up. So until we get to the job, how about you blast that radio and give me some of your finest rock, Winchester?"

She found herself really meaning it. Yes, she lied to the boys about being fine. She was from being fine and she needed time to even stop not being fine before she could think about ever being fine again. But she needed her mind taken away from it all. These issues, she knew they were there and she knew they were loud, so she just needed to keep them quiet for long enough until she found a way to deal with them. So she held her chin up and went back to being badass Melody instead, the only coping method she knew.

She saw Dean smile a little in the rearview mirror and nodding at her, before turning on the radio, clearly approving of her ways to handle things. The blast she had asked for happened to be only REO Speedwagon's Can't fight this feeling, a lot softer than what she had in mind. She loved the song though, but Sam sighed when he heard it and Melody heard him mutter something like 'Not again' under his breath and wondered what the background story to it was.

"Hey, hey," she scolded him. "Show some respect."

"Yeah, Sammy," Dean joined her, amused. "Shut your cakehole. This is a hell of a ballad and it reminds me of a hell of a girl."

As Sam rolled his eyes, but smiled a little at a memory Melody was clueless to, Dean launched himself into full-heartedly singing along.

_And I'm getting closer than I ever thought I miiiight—_

Mel chuckled at how goofy he was, but found herself drawn into it, too, so she welcomed the feeling and went with it.

_And I can't fight this feeling anymore  
I've forgotten what I started fighting for  
It's time to bring this ship into the shore  
And throw away the oars, forever_

They sang throughout the whole song, now and then accompanied by Sam's groans. But in all fairness, as much as Dean's musical guilty pleasures usually got on Sam's nerves and they usually ended up in a two-hour debate over what good music taste meant, watching him and Melody now was delightful. Neither of them was really fine right now and both them and Sam knew it, but they had this way of pushing it back and letting themselves be carefree instead, even for a little bit. This was something Sam could never understand about his brother, but also admired. With Melody, on the other hand, it was fascinating. In his experience, dealing with souls in physical ways was a painful and exhausting process. She shouldn't have been able to even stand, let alone hunt. Yet there she was, singing along to a sappy rock ballad, dramatically waving her hands in the air, ignoring the strands of her hair glued to her face, eyes closed and a little smirk on her face, acting like, even if the world were to come to an end at the moment, it'd have to wait until she finished the song. Sam couldn't get tired of how much alike she and Dean were, but he realized now that there was something in he that he didn't see in Dean. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but she had this spark that intrigued and fascinated him. Yeah, the Bennett sisters were going to be entertaining to have around.

"Aw, man," Dean exclaimed as soon as the song was over while Melody cheered in the backseat. "Jo was right. This guy really sings it from his heart."

Melody huffed. "Yeah, right. He sings it from his hair."

Dean threw his head back laughing at a joke only he could understand.

"You, Rapunzel, couldn't be more right."

They arrived into town several hours later, having decided to each choose one of the families of the victims to have a chat with and see if there was any common lead they could follow to the bitchy witches. They were to meet up afterwards and talk about it.

Melody got to the diner where they were supposed to meet first. She ordered herself some pie and she was about to mentally go through what she had found out when she heard a chair moving and she saw Sam sliding in the seat next to her.

"Hey," he smiled a little at her. "You got anything?"

"Plenty," Mel said, chewing on her pie. "But we should wait for Dean. I'll tell you all about it."

Sam nodded and ordered a salad for himself, to which she rolled her eyes, and they found themselves slipping into an awkward silence that neither of them knew how to fill. It was kinda funny, both averting their gazes and occasionally sheepishly smiling at each other. Sure, they had had a couple of moments, but neither of them was particularly good at small talk. Luckily, Dean showed up a few minutes later and he landed in his seat, sighing and pointing at Melody's plate.

"You gonna eat all that?"

Mel shot him a murderous glare. "You bet I will. Bugger off, Winchester. Get your own."

He rolled his eyes and ordered a pie of his own, moaning satisfied when he took the first bite.

"Watcha got?" he asked with his mouth full.

"Not much," Sam admitted. "The bathtub lady's husband said she was a nice respected teacher. Children and parents and pretty much everyone else loved her, couldn't imagine anyone wanting to hurt her."

"Same here," Dean retorted. "The woman with the car? Not as interesting as I thought. The kind of everyone loved and all that crap. So we got nothing to go on."

"Speak for yourself, pretty eyes," Mel smiled smugly. "Luckily for me, my victim's sister turned out to be the ultimate gossip girl. Claimed her brother was worshiped by pretty much anyone in town, just like the other victims. But in my experience, people who are most liked usually have the biggest skeletons in their closets."

Dean watched her intently as she spoke and Sam shot her a 'not bad' look.

"So?" he asked. "What's his skeleton?"

"Turns out he was having an affair with a woman called Katherine Thompson. Some crazy possessive bitch, from what the brother told me, and our guy had just ended it with her before he died."

"Hold on," Dean cut her off. "I see how this could be an angry mistress kinda thing with the land mower guy. But how's it related to the others?"

"If you'd have let me finish," she hissed at him, "I'd have told you that I dug a little deeper. Turns out this Katherine is part of a support group for depressed women. I don't know about you, but to me, support group screams coven."

The boys considered it for a minute.

"Well, it's a long shot," San said eventually, "but it's the only one we've got. We went on much less. So how are we going to do this?"

"They meet tonight, at 7. I say we bust in and kill some witches," Melody suggested and Dean raised his hand for a high five. Sam glared at them.

"Just like that? You suggest we bust in just like that, taking the chance that they might not even be our witches. Guys, we need a plan."

Dean and Melody groaned, mostly because they knew he was right, but his version was too boring.

"How about this," Sam suggested. "We take a watch over the place, and then Dean can go in and scoop it up. Eavesdrop. See if they're the witches we're looking for and how they're doing their thing. You can text us and we'll come up with a plan. We either bust in like you want to, or you come out and we set a scheme In case they're summoning some big bad demon."

Dean and Melody both pouted, but had no other choice than to agree Sam's plan was good and safe. So at 6:45 that night, they placed themselves in the Impala in front of the building where the support group was supposed to meet. They didn't even know what to look for and what would signal that there were witchy things going on, nut they hoped they'd realize as soon as they saw it. And a few minutes later, a woman was walking down the alley, holding a big bag in her hand, looking around anxiously as she headed to the building. Melody nudged the boys.

"Guys, that's her. That's Katherine."

The three of them watched her intently as she made her way to the front door of the penthouse and as she knocked. Another woman opened the door and man, did she look spooky. Her face was pale white and she seemed to haven't slept in days, her eyes dark and haunted even from where Melody and the boys sat. Katherine discreetly opened her bag for the host to peek in and she seemed to avert her gaze a little, as if she didn't want to catch another glimpse of its content. The other woman looked in the bag for several minutes, and then fixated her eyes on Katherine, pondering a little before stepping aside and motioning for her to come in. As soon as the door was closed, Dean and Melody exploded.

"That's it, we're going in," Dean exclaimed, pulling out his gun to emphasize his words, just when Melody said, "That's enough signal for a bust in."

"Wait, wait, wait," Sam tried to reason. "If they're our witches—"

"They are," Melody interrupted snarky.

"Well, if they are, we still can't just bust in guns blazing like that." Dean and Melody exchanged a look that perfectly expressed how undoubtedly okay they were with this option. Sam sighed. "Look, all I say is we do this smart so none of us gets hurt. This whole thing seems too easy."

"So what?" Dean scowled at him. "About goddamn time. Not all hunts are nearly deadly last minute-ass saving kind of jobs. And three heads think better than two."

Sam rolled his eyes.

"Fine," he conceded eventually, but he raised a finger before team Jesse and James here could go in waving their guns and screwing things up while getting them all killed in the process. "But we're still doing this smart. Dean, you sneak through the front door while we wait for your signal outside."

Melody rolled her eyes at having to play backup, while Dean didn't waste another second before stepping out of the car carrying his gun, his brother and Mel on his footsteps. They reached the front door and he looked over his shoulder at them, and they nodded to let him know they had his back and that they'd stick to the plan.

Dean crook the door open silently and took a few steps inside, taking in the scenery. He was standing in some sort of lobby, a few doors on both his sides and there was something dark in the air that he was starting to sense. He could hear voices coming from behind one of these doors, the first one on his right, so he decided to start here, placing himself in front of it and putting his ear close to the door. At first, the voices were a little unclear, but as he focused, he managed to make what they were saying.

"…all we need…summoning…"

Summoning. So they were the witches indeed. Dean's grip on his gun tightened, ready to go in if necessary, feeling his muscles tense in fight mode.

"Thanks to our Katherine, it's all set up," the voice said and Dean could hear it more clearly now, with all the adrenaline pumping in his veins. "The trials have been completed and three despicable souls have paid retribution. It's time we raise Nemesis for her to claim her sacrifice and grant us justice and revenge."

Dean frowned. Nemesis. This didn't sound like a demon, but it somehow rang a bell, like he had heart of it somewhere else. And sacrifice, revenge, justice? These chicks were crazy. But as he kept playing the name in his head, he had this feeling he couldn't grasp, like he knew it was big trouble. He focused harder and he heard shifting and moving around, before they started chanting in some weird language, something that sounded like ancient Greek, maybe? And then he heard again the voice of the main witch he assumed was doing the ritual.

"You all powerful, Nemesis, goddess of revenge, balance, righteous indignation and retribution, accept our offering and do us justice."

Dean swore under his breath. This was the moment where he had to go get Sam and Melody and try to stop this ritual before the goddess was unleashed. He had no idea what she'd do, but he couldn't stick around to find out.

"Also," the witch continued, and Dean lingered a few seconds more to hear what she was saying. "Please accept this man as a token and an oath of our faith and obedience."

Dean frowned a little, wondering if there was another bastard they were about to sacrifice that he should have burst in and saved just now, when the door flew right open and he found himself thrown across the room. He grunted and opened his eyes only to see that he was in a circle full of women. And they all looked… well, to say angry wouldn't even begin to describe it. They looked blood thirsty. He had no idea what on earth had happened to them to make them like this, but this revenge their priestess had been talking about, they craved for it.

"Dean Winchester," the head witch, the one they had seen earlier at the door, smiled wickedly as he desperately tried to come up with an escape plan, considering offensive was off the table because his gun had been thrown to the other side of the room. "What a great snack for our goddess."

Outside, Sam and Melody were still waiting for a signal that didn't come. They were starting to be really worried about him and Melody considered telling Sam to go in anyway, in case anything happened to Dean, even though she assumed he'd disagree and suggest they stuck to the plan. But at a closer look, noticing the furrow of his brows and his clenched jaw, she decided Sam was just as worried as she was, minus the adrenaline thirst.

She was about to open her mouth and suggest going in when the window on their right was smashed loudly and Dean landed at their feet along with a rain of shattered glass. Sam and Melody were speechless for a brief second before they heard him groan and try to get up, so they rushed to his side and helped him to his feet. He was covered in blood and had tiny pieces of glass in his face and hands, so they wondered what could have possibly made him jump down that window so sloppily to get himself hurt in the process.

"Dean!" Melody exclaimed as she places one of his hands over her shoulders. "What the hell happened?"

"We gotta get outta here," he told them breathlessly and tried to head towards the car, while Sam and Mel watched him confused.

"Dean, what are you talking about?" Sam asked him. "We gotta go back and end the job."

Dean's weak grip tightened around his brother's shoulder.

"No," he hissed. "No going back. They summoned a goddess."

Sam and Melody looked at each other, both preoccupied with Dean's well-being, but Melody eager to go there and gank those bitches. Before they could settle for a plan, they saw a bright light through the broken window Dean had fallen through and, from the way he winced, they could tell what was to come was nowhere near pretty. So Sam motioned for Melody to go ahead of them and they ran to the Impala as fast as they could.

"Open the door," Sam told Melody, moving Dean so that he could support his whole weight himself while she unlocked the car. Except for that fact that, when Mel tried, the door wouldn't open.

"Search his pocket for the keys," Sam told her, and she did search every single pocket of Dean's leather jacket, but there was no sign of any key.

"Dean, where are your keys?" she asked him fiercely, not wanting to spare any more minute if they wanted to get out of there.

Dean groaned, but this time, not in pain.

"In the car."

Sam and Melody's faces fell when the realization that they couldn't even get in the car hit them. They both looked toward the building and, although there was no sign of anything going on or any goddesses coming to get them, like Dean said, they could all feel the air had suddenly gotten cold and incredibly heavy and hard to breathe.

Melody groaned as she paced back and forth, trying to think of a way out of this.

"Shit, shit, shit," she hissed under her breath. "That's why I keep telling Emma a motorcycle is way freaking better than a car. We would've never had this issue with a motorcycle. Ugh, shit, shit, shit."

Sam eyed her curiously for a moment, and then he shifted Dean's weight so that he only held him with one arm, flexing his other one and sending his elbow flying into the window of the passenger seat, breaking the glass. Melody shrieked and she was sure that, had he been in a better shape, Dean would've done more than just hiss 'son of a bitch' under his breath, but Sam shrugged innocently and places his brother in the backseat of the Impala. Before he got a chance to do anything about it, Melody had already made herself comfortable behind the steering wheel. When Sam shot her a look, she mimicked his innocent shrug from earlier.

"What? Driving a Chevy Impala is a dream come true. And I don't trust you to drive her after having molested it earlier."

Sam sighed and climbed into the passenger seat as Dean barked a tired laugh from the backseat, which gave him another hiss of pain.

"She's got a point, Sammy," he said. "You've earned the right to drive my baby after having defended her honor, Rapunzel."

Melody smirked as she turned the car around and drove away, the three of them feeling the pressure they had no idea had cumulated behind their shoulders ease up with every inch they drove in the opposite direction from that place, the air getting lighter.

"Now, care to share with the audience why we're not back there putting some bullets through some witchy brains?" Melody inquired after they all caught their breath.

"I told you," Dean whispered barely audible. "They summoned a goddess."

"So?" Sam turned to him. "We've dealt with gods before. We go find a motel, do some research and find a way to kill her."

"You don't understand," Dean retorted. "This isn't just some goddess. It's a Greek goddess called Nemesis."

"Dean, Zeus wasn't some god either, and we killed him, too."

"You what?" Melody shrieked, having heard Zeus's name. God, how many things did they have yet to learn about these guys?

"We didn't kill Zeus," Dean answered. "Artemis did. And think about it, Sammy. Nemesis. Goddess of revenge, retribution and all that crap." Sam raised his eyebrows at him, still not getting his point. "For crying out loud, Sammy. Wherever this chick is, we should be fleeing in the opposite direction ASAP."

Sam sighed loudly. "Dean, we don't flee. We do the job or die trying. We can't let people be killed, and since when do you approve of running away from a hunt?"

"Since—" Dean tried to raise his voice, but he was interrupted by another groan, so had to clear his voice. "Since we have an army of angels on our tails. Since basically every supernatural being wants revenge against us. And especially since we can't put Emma and Melody in danger by attracting who knows what goddamn justice spells on our asses."

"So what do you suggest we do?" Melody asked angrily, hating the idea of them holding back because they had to be protected like little girls. "Just take off and hope Nemesis is on a diet this century? That she doesn't kill too many losers?"

"No, Melody," Dean closed his eyes, exhausted. "I suggest we make our asses go M.I.A. and lay low. We know plenty of capable hunters who can take on this job. There's no need to risk ourselves, not now. This whole angel situation is enough pain in the ass as it is."

She was about to argue with that when Sam spoke. "He's right. It's too risky."

And she didn't know what it was, but these words coming from Sam were reassurance enough that they were doing the right thing. Maybe it was because he reminded her of Emma, and she trusted Emma's judgment with all her might, but she trusted Sam, too. So she nodded at him and sighed.

"What happened, anyway?" she asked Dean a few minutes later. "How did it come to you jumping off a window?"

"They were about to use me as a sacrifice," Dean answered sleepily, and Mel could tell that he was about to drift off any minute now. "My gun was tossed across the room and they wanted to fry my ass for the Nemesis chick. So I improvised and made an exit."

Melody chuckled lightly. Not because big badass Dean Winchester was mumbling half asleep, although it was funny enough, but because he did exactly, without any doubt, what she would have done in that situation.

This was about the time when, back in the bunker, Emma woke up the most well rested she had felt in years. She had no idea how much time she had slept, but it was clearly an awful lot. She opened her eyes slowly, remembering the kind of power that filled her up to limits she didn't know she had, testing the waters carefully. She took the scenery in and realized she was in her room. Her head was still pounding and she was still nauseous, but it was almost bearable now. As an act of immense courage, she decided to sit up and her eyes found Cas in a chair next to her bed, watching her. She smiled awkwardly.

"Hi," she greeted him. "That's a little creepy, isn't it?"

He smiled in what looked like embarrassment.

"I wanted to make sure you were okay," he answered. "This kind of power you possess is highly unpredictable. How are you feeling?"

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to come up with an accurate explanation of how she felt right now. It turned out harder than she had expected.

"I'm not sure," she admitted. "It's not as bad. But I still feel overwhelmed and not quite myself."

"That's expected," Cas reassured her. "Your body needed to adjust to it. I assume it did, considering you look better, but from now on, it's entirely up to you."

She nodded and smiled at him.

"Is there anything I can do for you right now?" he asked her, and Emma's smile widened at his shyness and selflessness. Castiel was really one of a kind.

"I'd like to go get something to eat myself," she told him. "I need to get out of this bed or I'll go crazy. Why don't you tell me more about it on the way?"

She got out of bed carefully, knowing better than to overwork her body even the tiniest bit in this condition. Yet somehow, she still stumbled, feeling the fire within her burn a little stronger as she stood on her feet. Cas was by her side in a matter of seconds though, catching her elbow and placing his other hand on the small of her back. She blushed intently, but he seemed oblivious to it, so she shrugged it off and offered him a smile to let him know she was okay.

"So, tell me," she began as they walked along the hallway, making their way to the kitchen. "How do I control this? How do I stop it from eating me inside out?"

"You don't," he answered, and Emma raised an eyebrow at him. "You can't stop angel grace from glowing. What you can do is glow with it. This won't get easier until you learn to embrace it and use it at the potential it was meant for."

She frowned at him, and they stopped in front of the library as she waited for him to explain.

"I can teach you," Cas blurted out, looking her straightly in the eye. "I know it requires a lot of trust on your behalf. But I think we can work through it. I can teach you how to use you angel powers, if you let me."

"Cas," she smiled at him. "That's the only part I got right. I do trust you. Completely."

He watched her bewildered for a moment, clearly not having expected this answer, and Emma hated that he still blamed himself for how their lives had turned out. Castiel was an angel who had made some bad choices, but had earned his redemption, and that made him a worthy soldier in her eyes.

"I'm happy to hear that," he said eventually.

"Me, too," Emma said and then she chuckled mentally at how little sense that made. "We should start as soon as possible. Tomorrow. Today, even."

Cas nodded. "Today, you should save your strength, and we can start tomorrow."

She agreed and was about to say something else, maybe ask him to at least theoretically walk her through the process of what she'd have to do, when the front door of a bunker burst open and Sam and Melody waltzed in carrying a bloody Dean.

"Oh my God," she gasped, wanting to hurry to their side and help Dean, but knowing her body and the inner flames of the angel grace would put her through hell if she did. "What happen?"

Dean groaned and Sam and Mel exchanged a look.

"Well," Melody forced a tense smile. "You could say we're having a situation."

**First things first, I'm sorry for the delay with this chapter, but I had some technical problems. I had it nearly all written a few days ago when I lost all progress and had to re-write everything aaaand it sucked. Which might be why this chapter isn't as fluent as the others, especially since hunting scenes and Cas in the same chapter, being the hardest to write, gave me infinite headaches. But! It was all worth it! 10 pages and nearly 5000 words, that's some mind blowing record. I hope you liked it, though! Since this chapter was mainly focused on Mel, we'll surely get to see more of Emma next chapter. Let me know what you think! Lots of love, xoxo.**


	12. Chapter 11: Bend and break and mend

"Okay, I need you to hold still so that I can remove the glass," Emma told Dean calmly, and he nodded, grunting in pain.

He was sitting in a chair in the library and Emma was standing in front of him, leaning in to examine the cuts on his face. Cas had offered to heal him, but he had refused his help, not wanting to let Cas waste his grace on him. Mel and Sam had both gone off to sleep, letting Emma take care of Dean without as much as an explanation. She tried to take in the damage. Apart from the obvious cuts on his face that had tiny pieces of glass stuck here and there, there was another cut on the back of his hand, and while those on his face were superficial, this one seemed to run deep enough to need stitches. She checked for any broken bones and was relieved to see that, apart from sore really sore muscles and what she assumed were some kick-ass bruises, he was lucky enough to not have broken anything. She handed him two pills.

"What are these?" he eyed them suspiciously.

"Painkillers," she answered smugly and he rolled his eyes, but took them anyway. Emma assumed that must've been a huge blow for his pride.

She pulled out the tools she needed from the kit and started working with a clamp on the glass in his cuts. She tried to pull them out as gently as possible, but this turned out to be harder then she thought, because they were smaller than expected and she felt him wince under her hands as she disinfected the cuts.

"I told you to hold still," she scolded him gently and he let the air out through his nose, trying to suck it up, making Emma chuckle a little.

"How come you're so good at this?" he asked her in an attempt to distract himself from her moving that thing all through his face.

"What do you mean?" she asked him.

"You said you were only in your second year of medical school. Did you have the time to learn all this in such a short time?"

"Well, not really," she admitted. "The first years are more theoretical than practical. But I did take a first aid class and with the rest of it just came to me as I went. All the medicine in the world couldn't make it better when Melody got hurt, so I had to learn it the hard way. Guess you'd know a little about it, wouldn't you?"

She smiled sadly at him, but he couldn't see it since his eyes were still closed, as much as he could hear it in her voice. Yeah, he knew what she was saying. The older sibling thing.

"A thing or two," he answered. "Especially from when Sammy was little. He was a pretty clumsy kid." Dean smiled at the memory. "His knees were always scratched; he was always bruised all over. And our life was bad enough as it was for me to bear seeing him even more hurt. I taught myself how to take care of him."

Emma stopped working on his wounds and watched Dean. Even though she had more in common with Sam, seeing as she was his doppelganger, she had this one thing in common with him, too. They both knew real pain, but that was half-expected, the four of them knew real pain. But the two of them knew the pain of having to watch your little sibling's pain, and this one was a connection they shared that made them understand each other a little better. A few seconds later, Dean opened his eyes and Emma blushed a little when she realized she was staring, smiled at him and threw the bloody clamp in the bowl where she had thrown the pieces of glass. Then, she pulled out some alcohol and some more bandages from the kit and gently took his hand to see the wound there. It ran deep, just like she had deduced earlier, and it was all dirty and sweaty. Cleaning that would be a son of a bitch for him. She poured some alcohol on a compress and started to work on it gently, but he still hissed in pain, so she tried to distract him.

"In our case, I was always the clumsy one, ever since I was a kid," she told him. "Guess that shouldn't surprise you, considering the resemblance between me and Sam."

Dean barked a pained laugh. "It really doesn't. You don't look very stable on your feet most of the times."

Emma glared at him, but she was mostly fighting back a smile. He was right, she really didn't. She was constantly aware of every part of her body and she never knew what to do with her hands or with her feet when she was standing. It was harder now with the grace situation, because she wasn't only aware of her physical condition permanently, she was also hyper aware of what was going her inside her and around her. It was very hard to keep focused on one task or one sentence or one feeling when everything else flooded her and, as if this weren't enough, she felt the constant need to light up like a bonfire.

The conversation went silent for a few minutes as Emma struggled to get his wound as clean as possible, considering the risk of catching a really bad infection was dangerously high. This made her wonder once again what she had missed of their big hunt.

"Dean," she began inquiry. "What happened on the hunt?"

"What do you mean?" he cleared his voice and tried to play dumb, but she could see through his act.

"You guys show up back here the very next day, which never happens. Mine and Melody's shortest hunt, an easy salt-and-burn, got us three days, at the very least. So, you're back with not as much as an explanation, and you somehow managed to get hurt in less than 24 hours. I'd say that's a record. So what the hell happened?"

Dean sighed and told her the whole story. About how easy it had been for them to track down the witches and how perfectly fine it would've gone hadn't it been for the big badass Greek goddess that wanted to have him for dinner, finishing with him jumping off that window and getting Sam and Melody out of there as fast as he could. It was, after all, what he did best. She was just trying to explain himself about his reasons to flee when Emma interrupted him.

"I get it," she said. "You did the right thing. After all, we can't afford having unwanted attention over our asses. This whole thing is complicated enough as it is. I just hope these hunters you sent for the Nemesis chick can handle her."

Dean watched her wide-eyed, still unable to fully understand this girl's mechanisms. Sure this kind of attitude was expected of his little brother, but seeing it on her somehow had a different impact.

"But there's still something I can't wrap my head around," she continued, her voice pulling him out of his thoughts. "From what I hear and from what I was able to learn about you in the little time I got to spend here with you guys, and from what I know about my sister – Dean Winchester is never one to go down without a fight. I mean, rather go down than _not _fight."

"He's not," he sighed. "But I told you, the game was bigger this time. I had more things to consider."

Emma paused with the bandage above his hand and her hand hovered there, the other one still holding his, and she watched him through narrowed eyes, not buying for a second all the crap he was buying.

"But that's not it, is it?" she inquired, and she saw Dean clench his jaw.

She was right, then. There was something he wasn't telling them, that he hadn't told Sam and Melody and that they had overseen. Or maybe Sam had, Emma thought. Maybe he had seen something in his brother that she was seeing now as well and he had just chosen to let it go like it was the best thing to do. And she wondered if she should have done the same thing. She could see in Dean's eyes that it wasn't something he liked to talk about or even think about and she half regretted pushing him. But the other half of her remembered Mel and how she always kept her issues to herself, boiling up until she couldn't take it anymore. And unlike Melody, Dean seemed to have a long history of torturing himself and letting issues eat him up.

"Was it the Mark?" she asked slowly and he avoided looking directly at her so that she knew she had been right. She started working on his wound again, wrapping the bandages around his hand loosely, about to drop the subject if he didn't want to talk about it, when he raised his eyes to meet hers.

"There were about 20 witches in the coven," he spoke. "And I wanted to butcher/behead/disembowel each and every one last one of them, Emma."

She held back a shiver and continued working on the bandage without showing any reaction. She saw through his move. He felt disgusted with himself and guilty enough he just needed to get a reaction out of her to confirm his fears. He wanted to scare her, but she wasn't going to give him this satisfaction.

"So you jumped out the window so that you wouldn't hurt them," she assumed, and as she said the words, she found herself really meaning it and something in her expression softened enough to make Dean's eyes grow, if not lighter, then at least a little bit less sad.

"Some of them were truly scared," he told her. "At least if someone does kill Nemesis, they have a chance to snap out of it. So, to talk myself out of another massacre, I chose to take off instead and let anyone else do the job. Saved our asses in the process, too."

_Another massacre_, Emma thought and she couldn't help but gulp. Which meant it wasn't the first time.

'Just remember you trust him,' she told herself. 'He wouldn't hurt you. He's a good man. He needs kind words'. So she sucked it up and focused on him being Dean. And Dean Winchester she had gotten to trust.

"What's it like?" she asked him softly. "What do you feel?"

His hand was fully bandaged, but she still held it without even realizing. His eyes were widened and searching her face for something he couldn't quite name, but by the way his lips were slightly parted and moving almost unnoticeably, he must have found it. Maybe it was hope. Maybe it was understanding. Maybe it was compassion. Whatever it was, he welcomed his feeling and sighed before running a hand through his dirty hair.

"It's simple," he started bitterly. "Adrenaline kicks in and I see red. All I see is red in front of my eyes."

He shuddered a little as he remembered the feeling. He literally saw red in front of his eyes. At first, after having gotten the Mark, it was all just a nudge in the back of his mind and his vision blurred when he was in combat or when his emotions overflowed. But now, he had no control whatsoever over it. It was as if –

"You know what you can do about it?"

Dean's head snapped up at hearing Emma's voice, brought back from the depth of his mind. He frowned at her, skeptically expecting some Sam-inspired pep talk.

"Enlighten me, Dr. Phil," he mocked, but she ignored him.

"You should try seeing more beauty."

She looked him briefly in the eye as she spoke the words, then resumed putting the supplied back in the first aid kit, letting the words sink in and see the effects they'd have on him. She wasn't expecting any effect at all, a sarcastic remark at the very best, but when she raised her eyes to him again, she found him watching her intently, waiting for her to elaborate.

"From what you told me, you're the only one who can save you from yourself. If red is what you're seeing, the only way I see you could do something about it is to try to see something else. Shift the focus. Find something beautiful and hold on to that beauty, Dean."

He huffed.

"I don't know if you noticed, Emma, but it ain't nothing beautiful about what we do," he told her bitterly. "We kill monsters. We come back home covered in blood and dirt. We spend half of our time in cheap and greasy motels. The way I see it, beauty is long gone from this world."

She shook her head patiently, like trying to teach a kid something knew that he couldn't wrap his head around. Because he wasn't far from it, and since patience and kindness was what he needed, patience and kindness was what she had to offer.

"Exactly," she retorted. "The way you see it. But the world is more than the way you see it. Accept this; keep it in mind, and the perspective changes."

He thought for a moment and decided he was too tired to argue, so he played along.

"Okay, let's pretend for a second you're not wrong." Emma had to roll her eyes at this. "There's beauty. Somewhere out there. Hidden. Well hidden. Damn right hidden deep, deep down –"

"Get to the point, Dean."

"If there's beauty," he continued reluctantly and with the saddest expression Emma had ever seen darkening a person's features. "Where is it? And how do I find it?"

She smiled playfully at him. "You don't expect me to have all the answers, do you?"

He glared. "Considering I don't buy your crap anyway, I'd sort of expect you to."

Emma laughed at that. Maybe he wasn't entirely buying it, but he was considering it, and that was enough of a progress. Dean Winchester could save himself, and she could help him with it. She had no idea where this initiative came from. Maybe it was because of the angel grace burning inside her. Maybe she saw him as a version of the person she loved most in this world, Melody. Or maybe she saw him as the broken man he was. Yet fixable, she decided.

"I don't know, Dean," she answered. "It can be anything. A face, a memory, a place, even a song. As long as you think it's beautiful and play it on repeat when you feel like seeing red again, that'll do."

He huffed, but this time it wasn't in annoyance or exasperation. It was just exhaustion. Emma noticed him watching her funny for a few seconds and she felt her cheeks burning a little pink under the heaviness of his gaze, but then he looked away and offered an awkward smile.

"Thanks," he said, holding up his hand. "For both this and the Zen crap. Maybe I'll go watch some porn and see how that beauty thing works for me."

Emma rolled her eyes at him and sighed loudly, turning her back at him and closing the kit.

"No, seriously, thank you," she heard his voice growing serious and she looked at him over her shoulder. "There aren't many people who actually give a rat's ass about me and—"

"Don't think about this, Dean," she interrupted him before he got a chance to go dark again. "Just—Just believe you're going to be fine."

He nodded at her and shot her another look that Emma didn't know what to make off before disappearing out of the library and heading for his room, leaving her a little perplexed. Dean and her sister were exactly alike, but for some reason, him, she couldn't figure out.

The next morning, Melody walked into the kitchen with her eyes puffy from sleep and nearly bumped into Sam's chest.

"Oh—hey," she mumbled dizzily when she caught sight of him, then she stepped back a little, embarrassed. "Sorry. I just needed a drink."

Sam chuckled. "No problem. Here." He handed her a soda can that she took from his hand and drank it in under a minute, her mouth still dry from having just woken up. Sam cleared his voice and she realized he had a soda can in his hand himself, probably here for the same reason she was. "So how did you sleep?"

"Awesome," she answered and smiled a little, noticing the same awkward note of their conversation that he had in the diner. It was the struggle of small talk that they completely sucked at. "So, did you find out anything about how the hunt for Nemesis is going back there?"

"Um, yeah, yeah, I did," he said. "The hunters that took the case just gave me a call. It's not going great, but they have a lead on Nemesis and a pretty solid plan. They'll be fine."

She nodded and the conversation slipped back to awkward silence. They both hated this. They had no reason to be like this considering they had to each other alone just fine. Did they really share no common front? That was kind of hard to believe, considering they just lived with different versions of each other. Interacting should have been kind of like a second nature to them, just as easy as it came to dealing with their siblings. But somehow, it was harder than it was for Dean and Emma. Melody had knocked Sam out once and had punched a guy herself after he had tried to defend her honor, so he was a little taken aback and had no idea how to talk to a girl who had no need for anyone but herself, just like Dean was the kind of person who looked after himself just fine. And just for the same reasons, while Melody had plenty of experience when it came to flirting, she had no idea how to talk to such a sweet guy. Them being in the same room turned out to become quite a headache and Sam was the one who decided that, since they were living together now, he might as well do something about it.

"You know," he started, rubbing the back of his neck. "You mentioned liking motorcycles back when we tried running away from Nemesis."

Melody raised an eyebrow. "I did. And I love motorcycles, but I never got to convince Emma how _badly_ we need a pair of those."

Sam chuckled at her enthusiasm and he was convinced that his idea would indeed be welcome.

"You know, this place has a garage, too," he started and made a pause, watching to see if she was following. She wasn't. He fought a smile. "With cars. Lots of them. All kind of things."

Melody was watching him confused until the realization hit her. "Dude, no!" she exclaimed, and Sam nodded. "You mean to tell me there are motorcycles here?!" she shrieked, which made him whole-heartedly laugh.

"Yeah, there are. Most of them are rusty and old, but I get the feeling this won't be a problem for you."

"Are you kidding me?" Melody gave another shriek, literally bouncing at this point. "That's even better! I'll fix 'em myself! Take me there right now!"

Sam held his hands in front of him in fake surrender. "Alright, alright," he chuckled. "I'll show you. And I can lend you a hand if you need any help."

Melody beamed at him.

"Absolutely. Let's go have some fun, big guy."

**There you go, guys, chapter 11, for you only. I'm sorry I can't update as fast as I did when I first started this story, but I'm trying really hard to keep a regular pace for at least once a week. Anyway, hope you liked this chapter :). I have to make a side-note here and say thank you from the bottom of my heart for my top two reviewers, MariMart and Emie16. You guys leave me your thoughts on every chapter and I can't possibly explain how happy this makes me feel. You're awesome! Also, a shout out to my pain in the ass sister who always bugs me to update and asks me about twenty times a day to write some more. She's awesome and I love her. Lots of love for aaaaaall of you! Xoxo**

**P.S. On the last count, we were at 2,268 views! This is surreal and I'm out-of-my-head happy to see that my story actually has followers and fans and that it caught shape. Yay!**


	13. Chapter 12: The red and the purple

Sam led the way to the bunker garage, watching Melody nearly explode with excitement. He was glad he could do that for her. If the Bennett sisters had had the same crappy life these past five years that he and Dean had had for basically as long as he could remember, making her smile was mandatory and it pleased him to be able to give her a reason to. Neither of them talked, slowly getting used to the silence that settled every time they were alone now, and she was still bouncing when they got to the garage. As he closed the door around him, she turned on her feels, facing him, and while she seemed unfazed, Sam was a little taken aback.

"Okay, show me," she demanded, smiling widely, her cheeks a little pink and her eyes withholding a glint. Sam chuckled.

"I think there's one that's perfect for you."

He moved past her next to some covered bulges and Melody was practically itching to check out each of the motorcycles she assumed were underneath those covers. But when Sam revealed the one that was 'perfect for her', she gasped.

"Sam! That's a '75 Honda CB750, a Café Racer! Are you kidding me? Dude, look at those wheels! I mean, she could probably use some fixing up, but I bet she purrs like a panther. This is unbelievable, this beauty costs way over five grants."

Sam gave a little laugh.

"Thought you might like it."

Melody touched the edges of the bike like she was caressing it, her eyes widened in awe and her lips slightly parted. That was quite the sight, Sam decided. With her AC/DC baggy t-shirt and her comfy leggings, hair pulled up in a messy bun, she reminded him of Dean more than ever. The overall excitement over a motorcycle only added to the mix, but there was something there of hers only, untainted by that so-called Winchester print. Emma and Melody had seen a lot, too, but they were still innocent. And that was something that put a spark in Melody's eyes that was long gone from Dean's.

"Like it?" she raised her eyebrows at him as if he'd just insulted her common sense. "I love it! I've wanted a bike for so long, but this one's a babe!"

She was still watching it intently as she spoke, but suddenly, she turned her eyes on him and he found himself a little flustered under the heaviness of her gaze.

"Sam, thank you so much," she breather, overwhelmed. "You just made a dream come true. I thought that kind of things didn't happen anymore."

Her face grew a little sad, but she was just too excited to let anything blur that. However, Sam felt the need to say something in return.

"Not usually, they don't," he admitted to her. "At least not in this life. Hunters have long since given up on dreaming."

Melody bit her lip and lowered her gaze, acknowledging his words. She, too, had given up on dreaming long ago, when she realized every dream she had ever had was now replaced by this nightmare they were living. She had come to terms with the fact that they would never have the things they'd dreamt about before they were thrown into this life. So she offered a small nod and faked a smile and was surprised when Sam caught her shoulder and shook his head at her. Her breath caught a little at his touch against her will and she chastised herself for it. Melody Bennett was rarely taken aback or affected by other people.

"But," Sam smiled down at her, "this doesn't have to be the case for you. Dean and I, we've literally been through hell and back."

"Literally?" Melody raised an eyebrow inquiry and Sam lost focus for a little while and looked tormented, which made her wonder how_ literally _this really was.

"Literally," he answered seconds later; so, pretty literally, Mel assumed and gulped. "But that's a different story. Point is, we know where we stand. And it's pretty much a lost cause. But you guys, you still have it. Good things can still happen to you. And I can promise you this much, as long as we're around, we'll make sure they do."

Melody was looking at him a little teary, and as their eyes locked, him smiling reassuringly and her building trust on the foundation he lay in front of her, she knew they couldn't have made a better choice than to stay with the Winchesters. She surprised him a few minutes later by putting her hand over the one that was still resting on her shoulder, so that Sam's hand was now trapped between her shoulder and the warmth of her fingers.

"Thank you, Sam," she said simply. "But there's one thing you're missing here."

He frowned. "And what would that be?"

"You're anything but a lost cause."

Sam's eyes widened and she tightened the grip on his hand, knowing she needed to emphasize these words as best as she could so that she could make him believe them. She held his gaze and poured every emotion she had into meaning them.

"Sam, good things happen to good people," she said simply. "You're a good person. Whatever happened to you throughout your life couldn't change that since you're standing here, now, before me, as good as can be. It's not about dreaming and hoping for stuff, it's about thinking you deserve it."

Sam watched her wide-eyed and mesmerized, but ended up looking down and sighing anyway.

"Maybe I d—"

"Don't say that," she warned him before he could finish his sentence. "Don't say you don't deserve it. Because the fact that you do is the only thing I'm 100% sure of right now."

None of them spoke. Sam was looking at this girl, young and Dean-like impulsive, who, just like his brother, would rather strike you as ordinary, shallow and simple minded, until you caught a peek into their souls. But when he looked at Melody, he saw… What exactly did he see? What was it about her that pulled him in so strongly? Why was it so hard to get her when she was basically part of Dean, the person he knew by heart? And Melody looked at him, too, trying hard to project her thoughts to him. Since this was a constant struggle she faced when it came to her sister, she hoped she could do it to him, too. Make him see it, that he was worth it. Because if he was anything like Emma, and damn right he was, then worthy he was. There was selflessness to the Winchester brothers that amazed her, but with Sam, there was something else, too. He knew hardship, and she'd have to hear those stories about them being in hell, but somehow, his eyes were filled with kindness, like his soul was constantly learning how to be pure. How could he have believed he wasn't good enough to have good things happening to him?

When it became clear that he wasn't going to say anything, she chuckled nervously and gave his hand a last squeeze, before dropping hers. This seemed to bring him back from his reverie too and he let his hand drop from her shoulder. They stared a little more at each other sheepishly, before he broke the silence.

"Thanks," he said. "It's been a while since someone gave me credit. Well, except for Dean. Guess that one trait rubbed off on you."

He chuckled, but she remained quiet and he could see her watching him seriously.

"Nah, it's not that," she stated, and he waited for her to elaborate, but she didn't. His head was spinning. What was that supposed to mean?

She was about to throw some more wisdom at him by saying he was worth a whole bank, not just some credit, but the charm of the chick flick moment was already fading and the awkwardness crept in between them again, so she chose to go back to her usual snark and offered him a wicked smile.

"I just need to shower you in nice compliments so that you can help me work on this beauty," she mocked as she patted the bike. She'd have to come up with a proper name for her babe. "And teach me how to drive her. That'd be a pain in the ass by myself."

He chuckled and gave her a nod. Working on the bike wasn't going to be hard. Sure, she missed some parts and some weren't fully functional, but they had a few more other motorcycles to donate organs. But he found himself looking forward to those driving lessons. It was definitely going to be interesting.

"You got it," he smirked at her.

Emma and Cas were both in Emma's room. She was sitting on the edge of her bed, looking beyond exhausted and Cas was leaning on the desk, in front of her. They had agreed those coaching sessions had to begin asap, considering the fact that Emma's state of mind didn't show any improvement. In fact, after patching Dean up, she had slept for a full day straight and woke up even more exhausted, feeling the sharp pain in the pit of her stomach burning even stronger than usual. Cas thought it was the grace demanding its rights to be used and that the only way out of this was for Emma to try some angel-like tricks.

"Okay," she whispered weakly. "Walk me through it. What is it I have to do?"

Cas looked a little troubled. "I'm not exactly sure. Using angel grace is in our nature and we never put much thought into it. Teaching it to a human is… hard."

Emma gave a humorless and tired chuckle.

"That's reassuring. How about you stick to the basics for today?"

He seemed to consider it for a moment. That was the exact problem at hand. He had no idea what those basics were. Their angel powers were like breathing to humans. Humans wouldn't know how to teach the others how to breathe. What are the basics of breathing for humans? What were the basics of angel grace? Eventually, he chose to settle for those skills that required the least effort or grace. He made a quick mental review and lifted his eyes to her, just to see her watching him intently in silence. Maybe it was the angel grace, maybe it was her being a doppelganger, maybe it was just her natural charm, but Emma certainly had serenity and poise to her being that took him aback for a brief moment, before he remembered their purpose.

"I suppose I have a few suggestions," he said eventually, and Emma nodded, bringing out her focused face. "I think the most basic skill involving angel grace would be soul reading."

She frowned. "Soul reading? You want to teach me how to shove my hand into people and molest souls?"

"That's different," Cas said with what seemed to be a small smile. "What I'm talking about is minimal in the effort it requires and easy on accounts of grace. It should raise no problem. It's the act of trying to understand the essence of a person on a more spiritual level."

Emma still watched him confused.

"Okay, so no soul molesting for me," she muttered, a little dizzy. "Understanding people on a spiritual level. I'm afraid I still don't get it."

He crossed his arms over his chest and watched her thoughtfully, trying to settle for the best choice of words to explain soul reading.

"Souls are made of energy, which is a concept I assume you're familiar with," Cas started to explain. "As all energy, every soul has a different frequency and radiates in their own way. Angels can detect that frequency and the radiation of the souls can materialize, although unseen by the human eye, into something you would call an aura."

"Oh," Emma raised her eyebrows. "Yeah, I've heard of that. Didn't know auras actually mean soul frequency or whatever. And you can teach me how to do that?"

"Yes, I believe I can."

"And how's that going to help me? Reading auras doesn't strike me as the most badass thing to do with angel mojo," she said, not seeing how it could turn out useful in this business. Also, she smiled a little to herself thinking about how the first thing Melody would have demanded, had she been in her shoes, would've been some kick ass angel moves.

On this note, Emma thoughts about what a good decision it had been to be the one who did this. Every time she felt the grace consuming her, every time she felt dizzy or nauseous, every headache she had and every painful step she took, she pulled through by thinking it could've been Melody instead of her. The mere thought was unbearable enough to keep her going.

"It may not be an entirely viable skill in combat," Cas admitted. "But being able to read emotions and moods and getting a grasp on someone's feeling is most definitely useful."

Emma nodded, and a thought occurred to her.

"Are you doing it right now?" she asked him, smiling tentatively. "Reading my soul, I mean?"

"I can if you want me to," he answered carefully, and she frowned.

"What do you mean? Is it something with an on/off switch? I thought it'd be something angels do on a regular basis, not having to squint their eyes."

"Normal angels don't," he answered quietly. "It's something that comes naturally to every angel. But my situation is a little more particular."

Emma frowned for a few minutes at his words, not following. But then she remembered.

"Oh. Right. The stolen grace situation."

Cas nodded sadly and she blushed at having brought that up. He didn't seem like the type to get all nostalgic over his long lost grace, but it surely couldn't have been easy on him. If it had been so hard for her sister to have that grace ripped out of her because it was a part of her soul, she couldn't even begin to imagine how it must've been for Cas to have his entire essence stolen from him. She meant to tell him she was sorry for having brought it up when he stepped away from the desk and moved to sit on the edge of the bed, facing her.

"But I can do it," he told her, smiling warmly and a little sheepishly. "I could try to read your soul. And maybe seeing me do it might trigger some basic instinct in your grace to enable you to do it, too."

She nodded and sat there awkwardly while he focused his attention on the air surrounding her. She felt kind of like a fool for a moment and if she hadn't known any better, she would've thought he was just a scam, like some circus witch trying to contact your dead granddaughter's aunt's cousin's pet. But a couple minutes later, she sensed some shift in the air. It became a little brighter and lighter, and she saw something in Cas' eyes, she had no idea what it even was, but there was some spark that suspended them both in time for a brief second.

"It's partly how I expected," Cas breathed eventually, his eyes still moving around her, tracing the shape of her body. "It's bright and thin, marked by angel grace. But it's also so much more. It's purple. But light, lavender purple. Like lilac. It's beautiful. Like you. But being able to witness the full understanding of this beauty is unlike anything I've ever witnessed before."

Emma blushed harder than she ever had or thought it was possible under his scrutinizing gaze. She wanted to say it was like he was staring deep into her soul, but really, wasn't this what he was doing? Cas was diving into every side of her, studying every angle and in the clear blue of his eyes she could see her reflection, shining bright like a comet on a night sky. Even she was taken aback by the slight sighting of it, but what she read in Cas' features was of a higher resolution in this picture. They shared such a powerful moment right now.

Eventually, Cas snapped out of it, breathing a little shakily.

"I guess it's not so easy when you're inhabited by stranger grace," he excused himself. "And I had no idea your soul's aura would be so hard to look at."

Under normal circumstances, maybe she would've wondered what he meant by that. But seeing his awestruck face was more than proof of what had just happened.

"Why would that happen?" she asked slowly. "Is it because of the grace?"

"Partly," he admitted. "The grace would indeed leave a very bright mark on your soul. In fact, your soul emerged from grace and has recently absorbed more grace. I would've been surprised otherwise. But it's not just the grace. The grace makes it bright. It's who you are that makes it beautiful."

She tucked a strand of hair beneath her ear, too shy and awkward to pay attention to his words, afraid it could've been a compliment or something. She wasn't good with that.

"Is that what I'd see if I took a look at yours?" she said finally.

He considered it for a moment.

"I'm not sure," he answered. "No one has ever tried to read my soul's aura. I'm not sure you could. But seeing as you have the grace, I guess you could try. You could use the practice."

She nodded eagerly.

"Did you manage to grasp the feeling of what I did?" he asked her, focused on teaching mode. Emma had to bite off a smirk. Focused looked funny on awkward-behaving Cas.

"A little," she scowled, a little mad at not having been able to get it right. "I caught a wave of what happened, but more of the outcome than the process."

"That should work, too," he encouraged her. "It means you understand how it's supposed to feel. Try to hold on to that feeling. Try to be fully aware of the grace burning inside you."

She focused, but managed a small smile.

"That shouldn't be too hard."

"Now, keep your eyes on me," he prompted, and she obeyed. "Focus the grace there. Behind your eyes. Let it cumulate there and flow out. See what happens."

She listened to him and she pictured the blood vessels leading to the brain, to her eyes, and pictured the grace pumping through those vessels until they reached that spot. And for a few moments, nothing happened. Then the energy in the room shifted once again. She didn't see anything, but she could nearly catch glimpse of Cas being surrounded by some thin, really bright blue fog. It was gone within seconds, but as she tried harder and imprinted a direction to her grace, she felt it growing a little less heavy, a little more shaped and she took the first real breath since she had absorbed Melody's. She let out a shaky breath and chuckled lightly.

"Well?" Cas prompted.

"I didn't see it yet," she admitted, still smiling. "But it was there. I'm getting the hang of it. I am, Cas."

She was babbling, mostly because a tiny bit of the weight was already off her shoulders, and also because using the grace put her somewhere beyond bliss. It was enlightening, being able to use such powers. And Cas seemed to understand that, because he smiled at her, a real smile this time, the first one he had since she had met him.

"You are," he agreed. "And you are only getting started."

**Sorry for the little delay, but I kinda got stuck with some stupid mid-terms and tests and stuff. Well, never mind. Here I am, with a brand new chapter that I actually half enjoyed writing. The other one, with Cas, was as difficult to design as always. Cas is such a complex character and it's like whatever I do, I can't seem to get him right. Gotta keep tuned on the angel we all love, right? Sorry there's no Dean in this chapter, but I'll make up for it, heheh, trust me. What do ya think? Lemme know. I'll try to keep up the good work and post another chapter asap. Lots of love, xoxo.**

**P.S. Someone asked me if there's a Cas doppelganger, too. Well, that's an idea I should've thought of sooner, but no, sorry. I already have it all played out in my head and since this is mostly focused on the she-Winchesters, it'd only make things more complicated. Sorry again, but thanks for asking!**


	14. Chapter 13: Fire of unknown origin

After having worn herself out all day working with Cas on the whole soul's aura reading thingy, Emma found herself overly exhausted, but so excited and fresh for a change, she could barely sleep that night. She expected to wake up even more tired and for that burning sensation to grow deeper over the night again, demanding to be used. But as she woke up, she tempted a little at it and found it rather enlightening than painful. That was a shocker, but she didn't dare to complain.

She realized she still felt a little stiff and uncomfortable when she got out the bed, but she would take what she could get. She was a little frustrated that, despite how hard she'd tried the previous day, she hadn't been able to fully read Cas' aura. He had insisted that the reason for it was that reading an angel's soul was a little harder than with regular humans and that she should've tried it on Melody or one of the boys, but she couldn't shake off the feeling that this was, after all, the easiest trick in the book. If she couldn't even begin to understand the most basic and simple one, how would she be able to reach that level enabling her to even be considered the shadow of a challenge to angels? Cas had explained to her that once she had this one down, they'd move to teaching her how to heal herself or the others and even combat. She didn't find this all really deadly and dangerous, but according to Cas, they'd rely more on the natural instinct of bursting grace rather than theoretical strategies.

She sat at the table in the library with a bug mug of coffee in front of her, pulling her feet up and bringing the knees to her chest. She didn't even hear Dean when he came in and he watched her for a moment, how she sat like that, keeping herself together like a kid. If his brother managed to look vulnerable while being a 6'4'' giant, on Emma, it looked devastating. It was easy now to see how fragile, how breakable she really was. She was wearing an extra-large grey sweater, with sleeves too long that went past her wrists and covered her palms. One of her hands was wrapped around the coffee mug and the other one was trying to smooth down the strands of her hair that fell out of place. Not that any of them fell out of place, Dean thought to himself. That messy hair of hers looked perfect. Every curl seemed in sync with the others. Every single one of them knew their place and played their own part like a separate performer. He shook his head, shaking off the feeling. The Bennett sisters were chicks and they lived with them. They had no need at all for complications. And with his feelings enhanced like they were lately because of the Mark, this kind of appreciative thoughts might have turned out dangerous. He sighed loudly and Emma flinched a little.

"Morning, short stuff," he said, throwing the plate with his pie on the table, then landing in a chair next to her and propping his feet on the table as he took a huge bite of that pie.

"Geez, Dean, you scared me," she clasped a hand over her chest. "You move silently as a cat."

"It's in the job description," he answered, and she rolled her eyes.

"How are you up so early?" she watched him curiously. "It's not even 8."

"We rarely sleep in late. I'm surprised Sammy's not up yet, he always beats me to it. I guess it's the habit."

"So much for healthy habits," she mocked, but Dean could tell from her little smile that she was teasing him.

"What about you?" he turned the question on her. "You should be resting."

Emma sighed and took a sip of her coffee before answering.

"I couldn't really sleep. I dozed off a little, but the energy of the grace kinda kept me up."

"Does it bother you?" he asked and Emma turned her gaze on him, seeing real concern on his face. She smiled, remembering the time in the car when she had asked the same thing about the Mark. How fast things could change. "Does it still hurt or make you sick?"

She shook her head.

"Not this time, no," she admitted. "Working with Cas on it, it changed things. It's like it was all muffled somewhere inside and now I just let it into my bloodstream. It's still overwhelming, but electrifying nonetheless."

"Huh," Dean said after watching her quietly for a few seconds, then he turned his attention on his pie after he realized he was in danger of staring a little too much at her. "Good. That's good. How's the angel mojo training going, by the way?"

She sighed.

"Not that great. I mean, it's something, but it's not much. I can barely pull off the most basic schemes he shows me. It's a little frustrating."

Dean stopped chewing when he saw the little crease between her eyebrows and following her eyes as they stared blankly into some random point in space. Her thin little fingers were still entangled in her hair and the frown on her face made her look like a confused puppy.

"Don't knock yourself down over it," he resumed chewing and tore his eyes off her. "You're just getting started. You'll have it wrapped around your finger in no time."

Emma chuckled lightly. Dean made a mental note to make her do that more often. It was a beautiful sound.

"Thanks," she told him softly. "Guess I needed to hear that."

"That's what I'm here for, short stuff," he wiggled his eyebrows at her, his mouth full of pie, and Emma threw her head back laughing, which made him catch his breath a little. But he told himself it was nothing and that she was just really nice, as opposed to how'd you expect a female hunter to be. Hell, Melody was more of an image for how'd you expect a female hunter to be. But then again, he told himself, neither did Sam look like a regular hunter, with his long smooth hair and puppy eyes. That was it, he thought. It was their resemblance that kept throwing him off. It had nothing to do with her looking so cozy and sweet and resting her head in her palm.

He focused deeply on his pie, like his life depended on it. Of course, since it was pie, his life pretty much did depend on it. He enjoyed each bite, chewing tactfully and purposefully avoiding looking at Emma. But his hunter instincts kicked in and at some point, she could feel her eyes on him intently. He didn't dare to look up and meet her gaze, scared of its intensity. But eventually, he got tired and embarrassed and, admittedly, a little curious.

He raised his eyes and found her staring at him, just like he'd expected. She quickly blushed and looked away, which made Dean even more curious, but decided it'd be wiser to let it go. He went back to his pie and they both sat quietly for a couple more minutes, but the he caught her staring again and she averted her gaze quickly. Okay, what the hell was going on? When she did it a third time, Dean's interest was more than piqued.

"Okay, what?" he snapped, and somehow, this made Emma blush even deeper, if possible. But she smiled a little half smile that threw him off track for a second and shrugged. "Why are you staring at me?"

"No reason," she answered sheepishly. "Just a little experiment I was doing."

She was pretty sure she had blushed up to the tip of her ears. She wasn't sure if it'd work, but when their little talk had ended, she decided to give if a go and try to peek at his soul's aura. At first, he'd been too busy with his pie to notice and she was grateful for that. She didn't catch any glimpse at all, unlike how it'd been with Cas, when she'd at least seen something. She focused harder and squinted her eyes, but it still didn't work.

Just when she thought she might have been getting closer to grasping that feeling again and catching a sight, he raised his eyes. She realized then how it must've looked to him. Crazy chick staring you down. Or, maybe, since this was Dean Winchester, notorious ladies' man, he would take it as flirting and try to make some douche move on her. That last thought had her even more embarrassed than the thought of having been staring and she quickly looked away, hoping he wouldn't make a fuss over it. Luckily, he didn't, and she fully intended to stop bugging him.

But the grace hummed inside her along with curiosity too see Dean's aura. She gave in one more time and it was more than worth it. So much that, when Dean finally caught her the third time and snapped at her, she just shrugged it off and smiled innocently.

She had no idea how, why, what she had seen. Maybe that's what made it so special. She just knew the third time she struggled to see it, there wasn't much struggle at all. She just looked at him. Not looking for his aura. She looked at Dean Winchester, the human. The small human being who carried weights beyond his power, whose muscles pushed and pulled without restraint even after he couldn't anymore. She looked at the hunter roughened by a tough life, but whose features still carried that softness of a kind man. Dean Winchester. A man so intense and brave. Even now, as he was more broken that he ever was, he held it together and fought his way through. Because this was who he was, Emma realized. She knew that Dean didn't care if he could or could not be fixed. Fixing himself wasn't an option. The only option was to keep fighting.

As she studied him, thoughtfully, smiling a little to herself, she felt the grace humming, blurred in the background of her mind, and it slowly came to her. Cas had been very vague on what he had seen or what she was supposed to see, but right now, she didn't need any theory on it. She knew this was it. That thin fog that surrounded him, slowly concentrating, condensing into a soft veil that took his shape, surrounding him in color. From how it started to materialize, Emma was sure it was going to be deep blue, like the summer sky, and she thought about how well it suited him. If Dean could be a color, he'd be blue. Not Cas' shining light blue that she had managed to catch glimpse of, but deep, intense, clear blue. But it didn't meet her expectations. Once it managed to catch the shape of his built body, the aura changed color a little and the serene blue turned into a slightly clouded gray, like the summer sky turns gray before the storm. She frowned a little, and that's when he turned to her. His aura brightened a little when their eyes met, some strings of blue creeping in. That's why she couldn't help but smile a little and didn't bother to look away this time. It didn't matter. And the fact that his soul's color had just changed made her think that maybe that whole darkness came over him when he was left alone with his thoughts. She wasn't sure how to interpret it yet, but she could tell there had been a change.

"Care to enlighten me?" he mocker her after she had claimed she was making a little experiment.

She chuckled lightly and rested her cheek on her palm in the sweetest gesture.

She tried to decide whether to tell him or not. She didn't want to make things awkward or give him the wrong impression, but she also wanted to talk to him about it. After a small debate, she was pretty sure there was nothing awkward to worry about between the two of them.

"I was trying to read your soul," she confessed.

Dean's eyebrows shot up.

"Is that a way of asking me if you can shove your tiny hand into my guts?" he asked her in a low voice, mortified, and she have a whole-hearted laugh.

"No, Dean. But I could have Cas teach me that just so that I could threaten you whenever I feel like it."

She chuckled again when she saw how utterly sickened and terrified he looked and decided to put his mind at ease.

"Relax, I'm kidding," she assured him. "It's nothing like that. It's not so accurate or specific. Just a little glimpse at the aura souls create around people. It was the first thing Cas taught me. He said it was the simplest and that it'd help be to achieve a better understanding of the moods and feelings and emotions of the people around me."

Dean looked at her through narrowed eyes, processing her words. She patiently waited for him to understand it, and he finally nodded and offered her a small smile that didn't reach his eyes. But then again, few smiles reached his eyes.

"Auras, huh?" he asked her eventually. "How does mine look like?"

Sad, Emma wanted to tell him. Scared. Gray. The first one I managed to see. The first one that triggered something to me. In such a way that it makes me want to wrap it around in grace and heal it, so that I could see how bright its colors truly shine. She wondered if she could actually do that.

"It holds the potential of being maddeningly beautiful," she admitted to him. "It could be so bright and vivid and blue. It's like a piece of you, but presented in a more simplified way. Like your very essence contained in spots of color."

Dean watched her mesmerized for a second as she spoke enraptured, her eyes playing over his edges. The her words slowly sunk in.

"Potential," he repeated. "So it's not that beautiful and bright and vivid."

The sad smile that she tried to hide was more answer than he needed.

"It's still the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," she whispered, and Dean wanted to call bullshit on her words, but held his tongue when he saw the dreamy look on her face. "More beautiful than anything I've ever witnessed. But I think the Mark's altering it, Dean. It's overwhelming how something so incredibly breathtaking can be tainted by such darkness."

Dean was speechless. She wasn't telling him anything new, he had long since known there was darkness in him. But somehow, her view on it was different. Maybe because she saw this darkness as a taint, an impurity, she believed this was something he had to be cleansed off.

Emma noticed he had grown bizarrely quiet and thoughtful.

"What's on your mind now, Winchester?" she prompted him playfully.

He wanted to return her smile, but he couldn't. And he couldn't speak his mind either. So he went for the next question that nudged the back of his mind. So bearing that question in mind, the smile he wanted to much to offer slowly spread over his lips

"I was just wondering how yours looked like."

Melody was so impatient about the motorcycle she could barely sleep that night. And when she finally managed to get some sleep, it was only for about four hours give or take, because she woke up first thing in the morning, pulled on some clothes and went straight for the garage. As soon as she got there, she pulled the covers of that beauty and gasped in appreciation, her eyes sparkling.

"Hello, baby," she whispered to her.

First things first, she did a careful investigation of the bike to see what needed to be done to her in order to have her working impeccably. Eventually, she decided an oil pump replacement was a priority and started to make a quick assessment of the other motorcycles to find one that would best suit her baby. Once she did, she discovered replacing oil pumps on motorcycles was actually a hard deal, especially for a girl her size. It took her a lot of time and a lot of sweat that she wiped off her forehead with her oily hands and she finally understood how guys managed to get so dirty and worked up when fixing cars.

A couple of hours later, Sam came into the garage after having just woken up. He raised his eyebrows at seeing Melody bent over her motorcycle, covered in oil like she was the impersonation of the movie Grease.

"You're oily," he blurted out, and turned on her heels, eyes widened in surprise because she hadn't heard him come in.

That's when Sam really took her in. She was wearing short jeans and a black top, with a plaid shirt over it, her blond hair pulled away from her face in a high pony tail. Her face and arms and clothes covered in oil stains like that, she kinda looked like Dean when he was working on the Impala, and yet Sam gulped. This was the hottest thing he'd ever seen. He tried to wave away the thought, pretty sure he was blushing his face off by now.

"Thank you, Captain Obvious. And you're tall," Melody mocked him and she shot him a playful glare and a flirtatious half smile that didn't help him with his reddened cheeks and neck.

He cleared his voice.

"What are you doing here so early anyway?" he managed to ask her, and she shrugged.

"Couldn't wait to get my hands on this baby," she answered proudly. "So I started to replace the oil pump. Also, the clutch feels a little off and it might need a little transmission repair. Care to lend a hand?"

He clenched his jaw and nodded stiffly, hoping she wouldn't see how truly uncomfortable he was. Was this girl even aware of the effect she had on other people? Especially on men? Was she as oblivious as she seemed right now, clueless to the fact that even though the way she moved around was intoxicating, her smile and the way it lit up her green eyes was more than enough to make every human being forget their name?

Melody did see that he was a little stiff and it bugged her that he couldn't loosen up around her as he did around Emma, cracking jokes and ruffling her hair. The four of them were stuck together, and this awkwardness lingering between herself and Sam needed to be taken care of. So she shot him a smile over her shoulder and pulled out her phone.

"What are you doing?" Sam asked her curiously.

She winked at him. "Creating a proper environment for fixing stuff and getting oily."

As soon as she said the words, Def Leppard's _Pour Some Sugar On Me_ blasted from her phone's speakers. Sam smiled a little at her choice and she was pretty sure not only did Dean do this, too pretty often, but that this song was also one of his music choices. But she couldn't care less. She was determined to have some fun doing this with Sam and maybe even bond a little. She started singing along and moved to the backup motorcycles.

_Love is like a bomb, baby, c'mon get it on_

_Livin' like a lover with a red hot thong_

_Lookin' like a tramp, like a video vamp_

_Demolition woman, can I be your man?_

She threw her head back laughing and shot Sam a smile as she wiggled a French wrench around, prompting him to let go a little himself.

_I'm hot, sticky sweet_

_From my head to me feet._

But Sam had no intention of letting go or loosening up. If he'd thought she was hot before and he had blushed to the tip of his ears, this was way worse. Her dancing to a hot rock song did not make it easier to be around her. Melody Bennett was a dangerous woman. He smiled awkwardly and her and raised his hands in front of him.

"Actually, you know what," he babbled randomly. "I see you're having fun. I'm sure you can, umm, handle it."

He chuckled nervously and ran a hand through his hair. He couldn't stay there. He couldn't focus on anything but her presence, he felt too flustered to let her see the effect she had on him. No, he definitely couldn't stand here. His head was spinning too much.

"I'll just leave you two together," he tried to joke, pointing at her bike. "J-just let me know, uh, if you need anything."

She turned off the music and frowned, nodding confused as Sam fled the room. Had she done anything wrong? Was being around her so unbearable for him? She really thought they had managed to hit it off after the bar, and after yesterday, but apparently, he didn't really like hanging out with her. She found herself incredibly disappointed at the thought. She did like Sam. A lot. And she wanted them to get along. So why was it so hard for him to stand her?

**Here you go, guys, 13****th**** chapter. Things are catching shape here, aren't they? They are, and they will keep doing so. I'm glad I managed to post this chapter within a week considering all the things I have going on and I hope I'll still be able to do so. Anyway, I really hope you liked it. Lemme know what you think about the evolution of things :).**

**Also, as always, I don't have enough words to thank you for giving this story a chance. We're up to 3,000 views and I'm having a hard time wrapping my head around it. You guys rock! Lots of love, xoxo.**


	15. Chapter 14: A burning flare

"Should she really waste grace playing around like that, lookin' for rainbow souls?" Dean asked as he walked into the library.

Emma was sitting in a chair in front of Cas, wide-eyed and with a bright smile on her face as she studied his aura. She couldn't quite really get a clear grasp of it, like she did Dean's, partly because he was an angel, but this bit she was able to see, man, was it mind-blowing. It…glowed. It was something between white and light blue, but it shone with so much intensity, she just couldn't look away. There was a certain feel to the way his soul sang that kept her captivated and she kept reminding herself that this wasn't even because of his real grace. It was just Cas' soul that was so bright, even a stolen aura couldn't pollute it.

As Dean scolded her, she turned to him to scoff, but she was still channeling grace and managed to see that the gray, silver shadows in his aura were a little sharper than the other day. Those strings of blue that had appeared, the ones that resembled most his original aura, were almost entirely gone and she could tell he had had a rough night. Maybe the rush of yesterday's hunt still lingered on him, maybe it was something else; but whatever it was, she didn't like this shift in him. And she didn't like that she couldn't fully understand what these auras color code was.

"There's no concern about that," Cas answered Dean's question from earlier. "Mine fades because it's not mine. Hers is imprinted into her soul. Using it won't waste it. It'll highlight it."

Dean's eyebrows rose.

"And why's that a good thing?" he asked, then he turned to her. "Wasn't this thing eating you inside out?"

"It was," Emma answered. "But the more I use it, the more familiar I get with it. It gets more vibrant."

Dean nodded absent-mindedly, not really getting it, and Emma found her earlier cheerful mood sinking along with his ships, for some reason she couldn't understand. Maybe she just hated seeing him so beaten up about things that were too out of their league to handle.

"What's up, chuckheads?"

Emma snapped out of her thoughts when Melody came into the library, in a good mood Emma hadn't seen in a while on her. She wondered what the reason for it was, so she channeled her grace and took a look at her aura. She nearly gasped when she realized how much it resembled Dean's. Strings of clear blue, pure and intense. Except that, unlike Dean's, Melody's wasn't tainted with gray. It wasn't tainted at all. And right now, with her light mood and easiness, that blue glowed even deeper, embracing her like a halo. Emma couldn't help a smile from spreading over her lips and Melody raised an eyebrow at her.

"Watcha staring at?"

From the corner of her eye, Emma saw Dean fight a smile at Melody's reaction. It mirrored his from yesterday, when he had caught Emma casting glances at him.

She smiled and was about to explain to Melody the whole aura business and ask what had gotten her so glowing, when Sam walked in.

"Hey," he said and patted Cas on the back before sitting in a chair next to Dean. "How's it going with the angel training?"

Emma barely heard Cas filling in Sam about the aura reading and the next steps to come, because she was focused on a curious thing that was going on here. She noticed how, from the second he walked into the library, although he spoke to them light-heartedly, he seemed oddly tense and it occurred to her that he hadn't even glanced Melody's way, like he was purposefully avoiding her. Also, Melody's smile faded a little and, instead, she had those hard lines around her lips that usually appeared while she was mad or troubled. Emma frowned. She didn't know that much about Sam, but she knew her sister, and something was definitely a little off. She'd have to talk to her a little later and get it out of her.

Emma nearly slapped her forehead when she remembered. She could find out right now. She could read auras. She channeled energy, which felt so ridiculously natural to her now and took a closer look at Melody's waves of blue surrounding her, just to see that it had now deepened a little bit. It still wasn't gray by a long shot, so she didn't worry about it, but she still wondered what this meant. Also, while Dean's gray was mostly shaped into isolated, refluxed shadows, hers had deepened as a whole.

Curious and a little frustrated, she turned to Sam, who was listening closely to Cas. She smiled a little when she remembered Cas telling her that her aura was lilac purple, because Sam's looked the same. She shouldn't have been surprised, considering Mel's and Dean's did, too. However, when she caught Sam peeking a little at Mel, subtly, she noticed that his aura color had shifted, too. First it turned a little pinkish, the purple softening at its edges, but then it became a little more intense, just like Mel's blue. Whatever this was that was going on, it was mutual. They both felt it. Emma made a mental note to ask Cas later about how to interpret all this stuff.

"So, all in all, it's going good, right?" Sam asked when Cas finished explaining, then he turned to Emma. "You're getting there, right?"

Emma smiled brightly and she nodded.

"Cas is really helping me out," she directed her smile at Cas, who shifted a little uncomfortably. It looked so… human on him. "I still have no clue where we're going, but yeah, we're getting there."

"We should probably start the next stage, too," Cas suggested. "The faster you're on track, the better."

Emma nodded focused, going into serious mode, but keeping that mental note about asking him how to translate the colors. She really wanted to get to the bottom of what was going on with Melody and Sam.

"I'm stepping out, too," Dean sat up with Emma and Cas, slamming his palm into the table in a bored motion, then he grabbed a bottle of whisky. "Me and my pal here are having a date."

Emma frowned when he walked out of the room holding his bottle, gray waves of his aura leaving footprints behind him. She bit her lip then turned to look at Cas, who seemed to guess her thoughts.

"I'll go ahead," he suggested, and Emma smiled warmly at him. She didn't know if he had read her emotions through her aura right now, or if he had guessed her thoughts by analogy to how well he knew Sam, or if he just got her, but right now, she couldn't be more grateful to him.

She flew out of the library and caught up with Dean down the hall.

"Dean," she called to him, catching his hand.

She felt him tense under her touch and he turned slowly, his eyes fixated on her fingers brushing against her skin. She wondered what he felt right now, wide-eyed and lips slightly parted, and with his aura looking like a clouded sky. But as the stood there, she noticed the color turning a little clearer. Still gray, still dark, still no sign of the blue she knew was underneath, but a little clearer. She was so intrigued by whatever was causing this to him. Was it something she did? Was he, too, fully aware of every bit of where their skin touched? She remembered that first time when he placed his hand over her, in the first day, right before she told him he could never trust a woman. That had been curious, too, but this, this was electrifying.

And Dean definitely felt it, too. She was so graceful and feminine. She emanated delicacy. Her hands were small and felt so weird around his, yet in a vivid way. And there was so much warmth in such a small gesture. It's like whatever she did was just pure intensity and her whole soul was put into it, but this time, as she caught his hand and stared into his eyes while hers scattered a little around his aura, this time was like seeing her for the first time. And man, was she beautiful.

"Are you okay?" she asked him after a few minutes of silence. Not the uncomfortable silence. The silence that words were afraid to jump into, scared their gravity might unbalance it.

He didn't even make too much sense of her question at first. Was he okay? He had definitely not been okay a few seconds ago. The Mark tore him to pieces, every day a little more. He had woken up this morning more worn off than he'd been in ages, and he wanted nothing more than to drink it away. He had thought all night about what she'd said, about finding beauty in things to keep him from seeing red. After pulling an all-nighter, he decided beauty was a dead end to him. But now? He was so aware of how painfully beautiful she was, it kinda started to make sense.

"I don't know," he admitted, not finding himself able to lie to her face; she saw too much through him. Guess that was a Sam effect.

She sighed.

"Dean—"

"I know, short stuff," he told her, his eyes and the dark circles around them showing exactly how mentally exhausted he was. "Whatever you've got in storage to deliver, I know it already. Every speech. I know. I'm trying."

Emma smiled warmly, just when he thought she couldn't get any more beautiful. The she did something that surprised them both. She raised her hand and touched his cheek gently, careful around the cuts that were still healing, tracing gentle lines while she inclined her head to one side and watched him sadly. Dean was so taken aback, he could barely breathe. What the hell was going on here? And what the hell had happened to his lungs that they forgot how to do their simple breathing thing?

"Good," she said simply, and she removed her hand from his cheek, too soon for his delight, his skin missing her heat instantly. Then her hand left his and went to the other one, gently touching it before sliding her fingers around the neck of the bottle. "Mind if I reclaim this?"

He chuckled breathlessly, still trying to get a hold of himself. Well, however beautiful and breathtaking this girl was, nothing stood between him and his liquor.

"Sorry, short stuff," he delivered her a crooked smile that usually dizzied the ladies, yet she stood unaffected. "I might still need this to get me through tonight. Unless you wanna join me."

He wiggled his eyebrows at her and Emma threw her head back laughing. He'd never get tired of this sight. She let go of the bottle and of his hand and took a few steps back, and Dean felt the moment slip away along with her. How on earth managed her proximity to make him get a hold of himself like that?

"Sorry, Winchester," she smiled playfully at him. "You saw what happened last time I got near alcohol. I'm afraid I might end up playing strip poker with you or something."

Dean watched her with fake innocence through his lashes.

"I can't vouch for that."

Emma let out another laugh, then she pointed at the bottle.

"I guess that's fine," she said. "For now."

For a second, Dean felt like a little kid being scolded, but it faded quickly. She wasn't scolding him, or conditioning him. She was taking care of him. She and Sam had this one in common, too.

"For now," he agreed, and with one last look at her, he decided he'd have to make good use of his promise.

Back into the library, Melody and Sam were left alone. The very thing they'd each tried to avoid.

After yesterday, Sam scolded himself for being so childish and for lacking so much self-control when it came to Melody. He had tried to talk himself out of it, but every time he managed to finally conclude it, the image of her all oily, dancing to "Pour Some Sugar On Me" like that, sexy and playful and innocent but fierce and deadly. She was a force of nature, and he couldn't let any of that affect him. Things were already awkward enough between them. He had to play cool.

But when he walked into the library and saw her glowing inside out like that, he found himself so delighted to know that he had given her a reason to beam this way. It didn't last long, though, because as soon as her eyes landed on him, her soft features hardened and the curved of her smiling lips turned into a tight angry line. Okay, so this wasn't going to be easy at all. Was she mad at him? Had he done something wrong? Or worse, had she noticed what got into him every time he was around her? Because that would've been awkward. Or maybe, just maybe, she thought he was weird and wanted to keep her distance. Sam felt a little disappointed at this thought, but admitted it might have been better this way, with fewer chances to screw everything up.

On Melody's side though, there was nothing but anger. She'd spent hours trying to figure out what had gotten into Sam. True, things hadn't always gone smoothly between them and she couldn't find a reason for this, either, but this was ridiculous. Surely they could find a way to get at least get along, if not be friends. And she really thought they had it going, with the whole motorcycle thing and the little bonding moment they'd had the other day. She had grown pretty hopeful in the eventuality of them getting a little closer. It was a feeling and a hope that had surprised even herself, but she had acknowledged it. And then he pulled that stunt with promising her he'd help with the bike, then bailed on her ass. So yeah, she didn't fully understand what was going on here, but she was definitely mad. Whatever his problem was, he might as well spill the beans.

When he walked into the library, the air pressure suddenly went over the edge, and something told Melody Emma sensed it, too, even if Cas and Dean seemed entirely oblivious. Sam cast her a curious glance and seeing the apprehension in his eyes, she couldn't help but feel her blood boil. Then even more when he went the whole time without even looking her way, speaking to Cas and Emma and sitting with his back on her. What the hell was this guy's problem? She was growing angrier by the second and she was pretty sure she'd make a scene if she didn't get a hold of herself. So she took a deep breath and gave her best to ignore him back. Two could play this game.

But although she had no idea, Sam was hyper aware of Mel's presence in the room. He couldn't help it. If her sister was that subtle touch in a room, that barely caught your attention, but she held it when she did, because that's how bright she was, Melody was the colorful presence. She caught your eye no matter what. She had that firework inside her that made Sam notice her even if he had purposefully sat with his back on her, keen on keeping his distance. He was daring enough to take a few glances when he was sure she wasn't looking, and he finally got his answer to his question. It was anger what she had in for him. Which took him a little aback, considering that, out of all of his assumptions, her being mad scored the lowest. And he had to admit that was something that kinda piqued his curiosity.

One by one, Cas, Emma and Dean left the library, leaving them both trapped with each other, wide eyed and with awkward mode activated on full speed. They both looked at each other, each pondering how to best manage this. There was no best way to manage this. And in the briefest moment, each and every one of their emotions could be read all over their faces. Sam's uneasiness. Melody's too, soon replaced by the same anger building up inside her. And they could both read it on each other enough to misinterpret it. Melody was sure Sam was just uncomfortable to be around her. Sam went pretty much along the same lines, except he couldn't quite place the reason why she was so pissed off. Eventually, when it became clear that this was slowly turning into a staring contest, Sam decided to man up and break the ice.

"So," he started, looking at her tense. "How's it going with your bike?"

That was it for her. Whatever his problem might have been_, fine_. But the whole thing with the motorcycle was a low blow after getting her so excited and promising her to help her fix it and teach her how to drive it, just to let her down like this.

"You've got to be kidding me," she muttered under her breath and threw her hands in the air, standing up in a halt and turning to leave the room. She couldn't take this crap.

Sam watched her wide eyed as she walked away, more confused than ever.

"Wh-what?" he mumbled helplessly, standing up and tripping over his feet dizzily. "What did— W-Wait, Melody! Mel!"

He had expected her to not miss a beat before fleeing the room, but much to his surprise, she turned on her heels and faced him with burning flames in her green eyes.

"What?!" she spat, and he found himself taken aback by the tone and the harshness of her voice.

He opened and closed his mouth a few more times, unsure of what to say. He hadn't thought of something to say in case she gave him a chance to speak. He hadn't expected a chance to speak at all. He'd expected to be left here, frustrated as hell, words hanging, words he couldn't even conceive right now. It was always easier to think of what you could have said instead of saying it.

Melody smiled bitterly.

"That's what I thought," she said, and turned to walk away again, which gave Sam the impulse to walk closer to her and put a hand on her arm.

"Wait," he told her, and she did, turning around again and watching him with a tired expression shadowing her features. Somehow, the anger had vanished and what he saw on her face now was just its aftermath.

She raised her eyebrows in a lazy motion to prompt him to speak, and he let go of her arm, smiling weakly at her.

"Are you okay?" he asked her, although it came out a little lame. "I mean, I could see you're not, but why? Did I do something wrong?"

Melody crossed her arms over her chest and sighed. For a second, she considered seriously busting his nuts over how big of a jerk he'd been, but she changed her mind right before she opened her mouth. It was no use. She had no right, because Sam had no kind of obligation to befriend her, so if he didn't want to, that was his choice to make. She was acting childish here. She really liked him, but she was past the point of pouting if he didn't like her back. So, instead, she threw her head back a little and sighed.

"No," she muttered eventually. "No, Sam, you didn't do anything wrong. That's the point. I just –"

She rubbed her forehead, at loss of words, and Sam smiled a little.

"Look," he began, keeping his head down like he always did when he spoke to shorter people, and looking at her through his lashes. "I'm sorry, okay? If I did something to offend you, or if I may have acted strange. I just –"

He pursed his lips, finding himself in the same situation of lack of words as she was in. And for the first time today, Mel offered back a tentative smile.

"Looks like we're stuck with 'I justs', aren't we?" she mocked, and Sam had to chuckle. "It shouldn't be hard, Sam. I want us to be friends. If you don't, that's fine, too, but just say the words and I'll keep my distance, okay?"

Sam's eyes widened and he stumbled a little over himself as he was trying to form the words.

"If—If I don't? What are you talking about? Of course I do. Look, Mel, we started off on the wrong foot here. I'm just not great with people."

Melody huffed.

"Now you're full of crap," she mocked him. "If you're anything like my sister, I bet people love you. She's a smooth little thing."

Sam laughed, but it came off rather awkward. "No, I mean—" He sighed loudly. "I'm just not great with women."

Mel blinked for a few seconds, trying to process his words. As they sunk in, a small smile played over her lips and her eyes grew a little wider.

"Oh. I see."

"But how about this," he said quickly, eager to shift the attention from his awkward confession. "I'll make good of my promise and come by tomorrow to help you with the bike if you still need me to. And we'll talk about those driving lessons, too. Is that good for you?"

She pondered for a minute. She knew fair well she was providing perfect access for another disappointment on his behalf, but Sam did grow on her. So there wasn't much of a decision at all. She smiled smugly at him and turned on her heels, glancing at him over her shoulder.

"Perfect. See you tomorrow, Sam."

**Hey guys! Sorry it took a while, but this chapter was a nightmare to write. I had no pre-designed plot for it, like I usually do, and shaping these relationships and character bonding is some tough deal. But, I do hope you liked it nonetheless. Thank you, my dearest reviewers, and those who don't review but are still here with us, checking up on my updates. It feels like a dream that you even read my story! Lots of love, xoxo.**


	16. Chapter 15: Do I wanna know?

The following morning, Emma walked into the kitchen to get a glass of water and she found Dean there, leaning on the counter with a blank look on his face, sipping on a bottle of bear. She smiled weakly at him.

"'Morning," she said, and he raised his eyes to meet hers.

She was wearing a baggy T-shirts and shorts and bed hair and Dean's breath caught for a moment. Sleepiness looked gorgeous on her. He forced a small smile because she deserved this much on his behalf.

"Isn't it a little early for that?" she raised an eyebrow at his beer. "I'd have assumed your late night date with your pal would leave you hungover."

Dean chuckled at her reference of his yesterday's drinking.

"I am," he admitted. "And the best remedy for a hangover is more drinking."

Emma rolled her eyes.

"That makes no sense," she told him, and he just shrugged nonchalantly.

"I don't usually make much sense, short stuff," he said as she walked past him to fill a glass of water. "How was training with Cas yesterday, by the way?"

She smiled a little mischievously at him as she sipped her water, and Dean felt her eyes tracing the lines of his face in a way that made him slightly uncomfortable. He was about to snap again and ask her what she was staring at, when she placed the glass on the counter and took a few steps towards him. And for a reason he couldn't really understand, he flustered a little with every step that she made to close the gap between them.

"How about I show you?" she asked him when there were no more than inches between them, and Dean gulped.

"Sh—Show me?"

Emma bit her lip to withhold a wider smile and she placed her palms gently on his cheeks. Against his will, he felt his eyelids flutter closed under her soft touch, consumed by the gentleness of her hands. He allowed himself to get lost in the feeling for just a second, something he hadn't done in a while and for which he'd later beat himself up about, but he realized that when it came to her, she had this way of making him question everything he knew. And soon enough, the warmth came. He couldn't place it at first, but then his coin dropped and recognized it as the fuzzy feeling he got when Cas healed him. He slowly opened his eyes and saw that look in her eyes that she got when she lost herself to grace, like she did when she read souls, only so much more powerful now. She smiled at him and he put his big rough palm over hers, trapping it there. Not that she bothered that much. Eventually, he sighed in awe and she let her arms drop and shyly folded them across her chest.

"Huh," Dean exclaimed softly, still amazed. "So is this what you two kids have been up to? Cas teaching you some healing mojo?"

She nodded, blushing to the tips of her ears, and putting a strand of hair behind her ear. Like always, just when Dean thought she couldn't get any more beautiful.

"Pretty much," Emma answered. "He figured it'd be really useful in our field and seeing as I'm already into this kind of stuff—"

She left the words trailing and shrugged it off as if it weren't too big of a deal, but it surely was. Dean touched his cheeks, already expecting to find them smooth, uncut, fully healed. His skin tingled from the warmth of the grace working its mojo, but it tingled more from the traces her fingertips had left. He couldn't remember the last time he's been touched like that, if ever.

He forced himself to snap out of it and clear his voice.

"That's pretty awesome," he told her as he lay the empty bottle on the counter. "Pretty useful indeed. Thank you about that."

She shrugged again and she thought about how easy it'd been to her to learn to do the healings once she'd grasp a feeling of handling grace. Cas had made a great deal of manipulating her compassionate side and had picked up a couple of injured birds that Emma felt so sorry for, it triggered that one emotion that made her channel grace. And the feeling healings provided was so much more than reading auras, so much more exhilarating and empowering. Also, it amazed her how well Cas knew her. It was like he peeked right into her soul and always knew what to extract from there in order to understand her. It was easy with him, like she would've never expected, since he was an angel and her experience in that matter was enough to send her running and screaming. But Cas was so different. So different she couldn't even begin to put it into words. Perhaps easy was truly the right word.

As she thought about yesterday's training, a sudden thought occurred to her. Cas wasn't only able to heal people; he also had the power to instantly heal himself when injured. Her eyes widened and she felt Dean studying her curiously. She raised her gaze to him.

"I wonder—"she trailed, leaving Dean even more confused.

She considered it for a second, and then she decided to give it a try. She flew past Dean and opened a drawer, then she pulled out a knife. She saw Dean's eyes widen and she wondered if he thought she'd gone mad and wanted to attack him.

"Emma, what are you—" he began to ask her, and that was the answer to her question. Against all odds, Dean trusted her.

Before he could form the full question, she extended her arm and cut deep into the skin. Dean's face expressed even more shock when he witnessed it and went to grab a towel as the blood ran down her forearm.

"What the—" he rushed to press the cloth on the wound. "What, are you crazy?"

She stopped him before the cloth could touch the wound. It didn't show any sign of healing because of some supernatural reason and it hadn't even begun to coagulate yet. Chances were the healing wasn't going to happen. But her guts prompted her to stop Dean.

"Wait," she told him calmly, as she grabbed his arm that was holding the cloth.

"Emma, you're bleeding. Have you lost your mind?"

"Wait," she sneered through her teeth, eyes glued to the wound.

She felt Dean tense by her side and she could tell without looking at him that he was pretty sure she was going cuckoo. And as she watched the blood pouring, she was pretty sure herself that maybe she was. She greeted her teeth, about to admit she'd been wrong, but then it happened. It wasn't much. A small trick of light in the depth of the wound, tingling and numbing the pain. She heard Dean gasp and she smiled to herself.

"How did you know?" he asked her, and she shrugged.

"I didn't. It was a lucky guess."

He rolled his eyes and grabbed her arm, pressing the cloth onto the wound.

"Com'here," he told her. "Your turn to be patched up."

Her smile widened as she climbed on the counter while he disappeared around the corner, returning soon with her first-aid kit. She raised an eyebrow at him, but he pretended to ignore her while he scooted through the kit. He wore a cute frown on his face as he tried to figure it all out, and he was clearly having trouble with it. Not that he'd ever admit it.

"You know, that's not necessary," she told him, amused. "This'll heal. Not as quick as Cas', but eventually."

"Shut your cakehole, short stuff," he mumbled, still not looking up from the kit. "I want to."

She felt herself blush at his words and quickly tried to dismiss the thoughts that were catching shape in her head.

"Why doesn't it heal as fast as Cas', by the way?" he asked as he caught her arm and started to clean the wound with steady hands.

"I'm not sure," she shrugged. "Like I said, it was a shot in the dark. I assume it's because I'm not an angel per se and grace works differently on me."

Dean nodded as he finished cleaning the cut and he started to search the kit for the tools to suture the wound. Emma chuckled.

"Dean," she said with the voice of a kindergarten teacher scolding a kid. "It's a clean cut. And it's already closing up by itself pretty fast with the grace working on it. I don't need stitches."

She smiled warmly at him and he scratched the back of his neck a little troubled. In fact, Emma was pretty sure she wouldn't have needed bandages at all and that the wound would've been completely healed in a couple of hours, give or take. But she couldn't tell him that because he looked so keen on helping her and she didn't want to take this from him. Her stomach knotted a little at the thought.

Eventually, Dean picked some bandages from the kit and started rolling them around the wound, not too tight to avoid putting too much pressure on the wound, but tight enough to compress it and prevent bleeding. She pressed her lips, trying to stop that smile from growing even wider because her cheeks hurt already, but she couldn't really help it when she saw him so focused.

Almost out of instinct, she channeled grace and took a look at his aura. Her smile turned to a small 'O' of her lips when she read the colors. It was the first time it looked blue. Well, almost blue. It was clear, like the clouds parting after a dark storm to reveal spots of refreshing blue.

"You're doing it again, aren't you?" Dean surprised her by asking, without looking at her, his eyes fixated on the work he was doing on her arm, and the smile returned to her lips.

"Mm-hmm," she muttered brightly and he looked up. The expression she saw in his eyes was more powerful than anything his aura could tell him. Except, unlike his soul, this one in his eyes, she couldn't really decipher. All she knew was it made her breath catch.

"What do you see? Tell me," he prompted, the bandage already wrapped around her arm so professionally Emma was proud of him.

He was now looking straight into her eyes, his gaze so powerful and captivating she found herself undressed of all her defenses. Dean Winchester was this much of an intense man. She blushed and would've probably dropped his gaze if they weren't so connected right now.

"I wish I could tell you with more precision," she admitted, as her eyes traveled around the colors of his soul, without really losing his eyes in the process. "I just know it's the first time it's close to the real you. I can tell by comparing it to Melody's, since they're so similar. Yours is usually grey. Sometimes darker, sometimes clearer. But now I can see some blue."

She stopped to take a deep breath, inhaling his scent, and, at the same time, breathing his aura, his soul, his essence.

"It's not the first time it happens," she admitted. "I've seen it once or twice before. But only when—"

She trailed off and bit her lip, unsure of how to put this into words. It was a dangerous phrase, and it meant putting her finger on something she wasn't really ready to admit to herself. The fact that Dean Winchester had an effect whatsoever on her.

"Only when what?" he asked her breathlessly, not ready to drop the subject, and it struck Emma how close they were. She considered whether she should tell him. _Dangerous phrase, can't admit it to yourself,_ her brain screamed to her, sending a throb to her head. But with her heart beating against her chest like that, she couldn't really listen to reason.

"Only when you're with me," she whispered, and she could tell he was holding his breath. She paused for a few seconds because she didn't trust her voice enough, then she continued. "When I'm near, your soul does this trick, like clearing up. Like the blue skims through to the surface. And I don't—"

"You don't what?"

"And I don't understand why," she admitted. "I don't know what is about me that can bring this out of you like this."

They were both painfully aware of their closeness. Of the fact that, one more inch to close that distance would bring their lips together, of him having his arms placed on the counter on both sides of her, trapping her. And neither of them knew what to do about this fact. They just had it there. Lying on the table, theirs for the taking. And for Dean, it was physically exhausting. To stand so close to her, to breathe her in, to constantly keep his eyes from tracing the shape of her lips, to keep his hands from twitching to move a strand of hair beneath her ear. He didn't even know he wanted that. And how could he explain to her that this was the exact reason why his aura resonated along with these feelings he didn't even understand? How could he explain to her that she made him feel so many things and that these colors were just mirrors into his soul? Was he willing to risk this complicated relationship he already had with Emma Bennett? Could he help himself not to?

"I don't know," he admitted eventually, swallowing against the lump in his throat, his mouth dry. "I guess my soul likes having you around."

Emma chuckled a little and finally dropped her gaze, knowing for a fact that, had she held it any longer, she would've given in to temptation. So, she took a deep breath and steadied herself, not trusting herself enough to keep this control thing going for much longer.

"Mine does, too," she told him, looking down. "If you'd have my gracey eyes, you could see that, too." She heard him chuckle. "I never thought this would be possible, but you grew on me, Winchester."

She dared to look back up and found him watching her just as intently, but with a small smile playing on his lips. She shifted a little to let him know she wanted to leave and he caught the hint, dropping his arms. She jumped off the counter and felt as if she'd just broken a spell. As if she'd been drowning before, then she'd risen to the surface to fill her lungs with fresh air, and now she was back underwater. She dismissed the thought, reminding herself of how dangerous these feelings were and of the things she couldn't let herself admit.

"Thanks for this, by the way," she pointed to her bandage arm, and he nodded.

"Thanks for this, too," he showed his face, and Emma offered him a smile before disappearing around the corner. Sometimes, she felt as if the things that went unsaid between her and Dean were more dangerous than those they did say.

"I'm telling you, Winchester, I don't eat your typical rabbit food because I don't _want_ to, not because I _can't_; I'm not a wuss," Melody tried to explain to Sam with a roll of her eyes while she wiped the oil off her hands on a cloth.

They'd been working on the bike all morning and things seemed to finally go the right direction between them. It was the first time they were able to joke around and tease each other light-heartedly since the night out at the bar, and they didn't even need alcohol this time, which called progress. And Sam had really made good use of his promise and had helped Mel with the whole fixing business, so much that her baby was almost ready for a ride.

And the small talk went unusually well, too. It was a little too over thought at first, but they'd eventually found some common linings and somehow, they'd ended up discussing eating habits. Sam was absolutely sure Melody and Dean were leading the most unhealthy lifestyles in the history of unhealthy lifestyles and that they wouldn't be able to eat a salad if their lives depended on it.

"_I_ can have a salad whenever I want to," she huffed, straightening her chest and smiling smugly at him. "But I bet _you, _smarty-pants Winchester, would have a stroke if you ever ate a hamburger."

Sam snorted.

"No, I wouldn't."

"Definitely would."

"I don't want to have hamburgers," Sam insisted. "That stuff's poison."

"Sure, sure," Mel rolled her eyes. "My point exactly. My hamburgers are poison while your salads are gross. I'd still put my money on the fact that you'd _never ever_ touch a double burger."

"You've got it," he offered his hand, and Mel eyed it cautiously.

"What?"

Sam chuckled. If only every time with Melody would've been this easy.

"You wanna put down money?" he prompted. "Fine. I'll have a double burger if you have a salad."

Melody narrowed her eyes mischievously.

"Deal," she took his hand and that was the first time of today when Sam flustered a little. "Whoever cracks and can't do it loses the money."

"Sounds fair," Sam smiled.

Next thing they knew, that evening they went into the library, Sam carrying a burger wearing a full power bitch face, and Melody carrying a salad, wearing the most disgusted look she could pull off. Dean and Emma were there, and maybe, hadn't they been so wrapped up in their bet, Mel and Sam would've noticed the two of them were sitting on cautious distance from each other, looking slightly embarrassed. But they were definitely wrapped up.

Emma looked up curiously from the book she was reading and Dean raised his eyebrows when he saw their plates.

"You two kids sharing lunch?" he asked, which cost him a bitchy glare from Sam that made Emma chuckle.

"Why the long face, smarty-pants?" Mel mocked him. "That's exactly what we're doing."

Sam rolled his eyes and threw the plate with the burger in front of him with a sick expression, while Dean straightened up in his seat.

"Wow, I definitely have to hear this," he exclaimed, which made Emma chuckle a little.

"Ditto," she said.

Melody and Sam shared a challenging look as they sat across from each other as if they were going to battle for their lives. Well, this was the closest thing to it.

"We made a bet," Mel exclaimed as she picked up the fork in a brave move, but looking half terrified. "If he can eat a double burger, then I eat a salad."

The room fell quiet for a few moments, and then Dean and Emma burst out laughing.

"Seriously?" Emma exclaimed after she finished laughing. "Oh boy, Sam, this is gonna be easy money for you."

Melody glared at her sister.

"Geez, Em, thanks for the trust," she spat sarcastically, but Emma just shrugged innocently.

"Are you kidding me?" Dean turned to Emma with half a smile. "Mel's gonna nail that. Sammy can't 'ingest that much cholesterol'." He drew the quotation marks with his fingers in the air and pulled off a perfectly Sam-bitch face, which made Emma burst into another round of giggles, especially when the original Sam cast them an original bitch face.

But Sam and Melody eventually decided to ignore their siblings, who turned out to be the worst cheerleaders to have ever existed, and focused on the task at hand. They felt like some sort of cowboys in a showdown, going for the guns. It was sort of silly, but none of them was backing down.

"You go first, Winchester," Melody wiggled her eyebrows, challenging him.

Normally, maybe Sam would've protested, but seeing the mischievous look in her eyes, no way was he doing anything to minimize the glory of his victory-to-come. So he decided to man up and picked up the burger, taking a big bite. It tasted awful and gross, but he took it bravely. It made him a little nauseous to eat all that fat and he was already planning on several workout sessions to burn all those calories. He felt unhealthy with every single bite. But he went through it 'til the end and exhaled sharply when he swallowed that last bite, looking at Melody triumphantly, just to enjoy the satisfaction of seeing her slightly scared.

With the corner of his eye, he caught sight of Dean slipping Emma a bill and he fought a smile at the thought that they'd carried bets about their bet. Sam was proud to know his success was not only going to win him a bet against Melody, but it made Dean lose some cash, too. To Emma. His pride must've hurt like a bitch.

Melody cleared her throat and swung the fork between her fingers.

"Nice job, Winchester," she put on a brave face. "Let me balance the odds."

She wiggled her eyebrows again and Sam had to fight the urge to laugh. It cracked him every time she did that.

Melody stabbed the salad with the fork and took a huge bite. She tried to smile, but in a matter of seconds, her face color matched that of the salad. This was literally like eating grass. Ugh. How could people eat that? She forced another smile at Sam, who was now smiling smugly, because she refused to give him the satisfaction of winning this. But every time she chewed, she felt more like a goat. So, she eventually sighed and dropped the pretense, opening her mouth and pushing the piece of salad out of her mouth with her tongue in a highly unfeminine way. No way could she go through an entire salad.

She scowled as she pushed the plate aside and she saw as Dean paid Emma another bill. Good to know at least someone was getting some cash tonight. With this thought, she noticed Sam smiling widely at him and he wiggled his eyebrows in that way she always did. She had to bite her lip violently in order to withhold her laugher.

"Pay up," he said, and she emptied her pockets to him.

"I need some pie so badly right now," she said as she hurried to the kitchen, which just made the three of them crack into laughter.

**Poof, new chapter in da hood! I hope you'll really like this one; I must admit it was my favorite one so far and I wrote it in just one sitting. It just flew out of me. Also, needless to keep saying this, but you're all so amazing, it makes my day every time I open my stats and I find a new review or so many many many views. I can't find the words to thank you enough! Love you all, xoxo.**


	17. Chapter 16: Who the mighty fall for

"Okay, show me again."

Melody groaned for the hundredth of time.

"Saaam! I showed you, like, 50 times already. And I know everything there is to know abo—"

"Humor me," Sam crossed his arms over his chest, and Melody rolled her eyes. "Clutch?"

"Here."

"Good. Front brakes?"

"Here."

"Rear brakes?"

"Here. Now can we _please _get moving?"

Sam fought a smile. True, he was a little tough on her, partly because he knew it got on her nerves and it was fun to watch, but also because he was worried and he wanted to make sure she was as safe as could be. And Emma would've killed him, had she found out they were doing this, so the least he could do was reduce every risk factor. They were in an open field near the bunker, with Melody's motorcycle, up for the first driving lesson. She was crazy excited and that good mood of hers was just so contagious, it nearly made him let go and stop worrying about whatever was going on between them. Nearly. Because then she'd say something funny and crack him up, or look up at him through her lashes and he'd nearly lose it. There were lots of nearly-s with her. But he set these thought aside and focused on their task. He sighed and rolled his eyes at Melody.

"It's not that easy," he told her. "So, you know the basics. Now you need to practice getting a feel of the clutch before you get moving."

Melody groaned. Again. Did he really have to be so thick headed? Tired of him bossing her around, she pulled in the clutch lever and put the bike into first gear, and then she slowly let out the lever until the bike started to roll forward. After an inch or so, she pulled the lever back in and shot Sam a smug glare.

"I'm not a dummy, Sam," she told him, and he responded with a bitch face that Melody found hard to keep a straight face at.

"Fair enough," he muttered. "Then I assume we can get moving."

Melody whispered 'about time' under her breath, but really she couldn't help but smile. Even though she and Sam were rarely at the same page, she was happy he was here and that they did this together. She liked Sam. A lot. More than she'd have cared to admit, and it was a little frustrating to see that he was so skeptical with everything that had anything to do with her. Truth was, she knew enough about motorcycles to figure out riding one by herself, but Sam had offered, and it was a good excuse to be around him, considering he wasn't exactly going in over his head to be around her. She would take what she could get of him. She liked being with him too much to be picky.

"Okay, this is the scary part," Sam told her. "You think you can handle it by yourself?"

She bit her lip. She probably could have, but she wasn't confident enough to try. Sam saw her hesitate and smiled a little.

"Here, lemme show you," he said, and he climbed on the bike behind Melody. Her eyes widened in shock. This was something she definitely hadn't expected him to do, so boldly, especially after the weird past few days. She felt his well-built body against her back and he placed his hands above hers. "Okay, so, for this part, you need to truly trust the machine."

Melody huffed, trying to distract herself from the feeling of Sam so close to her.

"The machine?" she spat. "Don't listen to him, baby. You're so much more than that."

Sam laughed whole-heartedly and Melody smiled wildly at feeling his chest vibrate against her back.

"If anyone ever had doubt about you being Dean's doppelganger—"

"No, but, you can't say that in front of her, it's rude," she tried to glare at him over her shoulder but only managed to bring their faces a little bit too close.

"Then how am I supposed to call her?" Sam played along. "It's a bike, Melody."

Melody gasped and faked shock. "Sam Winchester! How dare you! She's more than a bike, her name's—" She trailed off, thinking, and Sam shot her a look. "Well, I'm working on it. For starters, you show my bike some respect, smarty pants."

Sam rolled his eyes at her then he cleared his voice to refocus on what they were doing.

"Okay, so, you gotta grab the clutch like this." He pressed her hand around the clutch, and Melody bit her lip against her smile. She didn't need to see him to tell that Sam's face was bright red right now. "Then you slowly let the clutch go and slowly roll the throttle back to pick up a little speed."

He exemplified it with his hands and Melody could feel his warm breath in the back of his neck, and then the bike started moving a little bit and she let out a little squeal, panicking a bit as they caught speed. Sam chuckled.

''Melody, relax," he told her. ''I gotcha."

She let out a shaky breath and nodded. She trusted Sam. She knew he got her. There was no reason at all to worry. And as they sped more, she felt herself happier than she'd been in a long time. She was doing what she'd been dying to do for years, riding a bike, and as a bonus, she had Sam Winchester right behing her, keeping her safe, hands steady over hers.

Except Sam wasn't sure this was such a good idea anymore. He was thrilled to see Melody so happy, of course, he always was. And he tried to talk himself into getting over all this awkwardness that lingered between them, so he thought it was a good idea at the time to climb behind her on the bike and help her like that. It wasn't. Being so close to her brought him to face something he couldn't deny himself anymore. He was attracted to Melody. He liked her a lot. And being there, touching her, was hard for him, because while it may have meant nothing to her, it meant something to him. He had no idea what to do about that. Part of him wanted to go on that hunch. The other part wanted to just let it go and keep things safe between him and Melody.

"How about we try to make a turn?" he told her after they rode in silence, slowly, but safely, for a few minutes.

He felt Melody tense against him.

"I'm not— I mean—"

Sam chuckled. "It's okay. You just have to trust me. Now, let's slow down a little, and remember what I taught you. Slow, look, press, turn."

Melody nodded. She knew the theory of it by heart by now, but she didn't feel secure enough to do it herself. She bit her lip and looked at Sam hands over hers and took a deep breath before slowing down, looking through the turn then pressing the handle bar in the direction she wanted to go and slowly rolling on the throttle as she glided through the turn.

She let out a laugh as she went down the road to the right before realizing that Sam's hands weren't even there anymore.

"Sam!"

"Good job," he told her. "You can stop now; I think we're done for the day since there's a storm on the way. Come on; slowly apply the front and the rear brakes at the same time."

She did as told and the bike came to a halt, making them both laugh.

"You're a natural at this," he told her as they climbed off the motorcycle, and she rolled her eyes playfully at him.

"You ever had any doubts, Winchester? That's what I was born to do."

Sam laughed. "Sure you were. Let's head back before the storm hits."

"Can't we just drive it to the bunker?" Melody looked at him through her lashes, making Sam gulp a little.

"Um," he stammered, rubbing the back of his neck, trying to remember the point he was trying to make. "I'm pretty sure Emma would behead me if she saw the bike and found out what we're doing. So we should probably be subtle about this."

Melody narrowed her eyes at him. "Are you scared of my sister, Sam? The one who's 5 feet tall and looking like a squirrel?"

Sam placed his hands on his hips and chuckled nervously. "The one who can handle a gun. But how about this? I drive it back to the bunker and we figure out how to sneak it in there."

Mel smiled widely at him. "Deal."

Problem was, Sam realized as he climbed the bike and saw Melody moving towards him, this implied some close contact that he'd have preferred to avoid. Yeah, this worked awesome for him. So far, everything he'd have rather avoided ended up hitting him in the gut. Every feeling he tried to keep muffled, silenced, under control when it came to Melody ended up exploding in his face, and it didn't get easier. Not now, not at all.

Melody, however, had no problem with it. She made sure Sam couldn't see the huge smile that was spreading across her face as she got on the bike behind him and wrapped her arms around his torso. She also couldn't help but blush as her palms brushed against his well-built body, especially seeing as he was so reserved towards her all the time and, although she was a pro when it came to dizzying guys and flirting, she didn't know how to deal with a guy she actually liked.

"Ready?" he asked her, clearing his voice. A few drops of rain entangled in her blond locks, warning them of the storm that was to come.

"Ready when you are, smarty pants," she retorted, and Sam drove away with a level experience that she envied. Not that she could think too much about that when she was constantly distracted by the feeling of the lack of any space whatsoever between their bodies. She found herself thinking about how natural it actually felt. Like they were fit like this, next to each other. Her head was spinning so hard and her thoughts were heavy flying through the speed with which Sam was driving.

They arrived back in front of the bunker in a matter of minutes. She got away from Sam, reluctantly unwrapping her arms from around him. And Sam missed the heat of the body against his back, too. He was surprised he even managed to make it safe back to the bunker, seeing as he wasn't able to focus on anything else but her. Only her.

He cleared his voice and turned to her. It was raining heavily by now and they both heard a thunder raging in the distance.

"Come on, let's get this thing inside and get you inside to dry up before Emma gets on to us."

He made a move to move the motorcycle and took a few steps before realizing Melody wasn't following him. He turned around and squinted his eyes through the raindrops. She was just standing there, soaking wet, face turned upwards and eyes closed, a small smile on her face. He looked at her for a few seconds, confused, and opened and closed his mouth a few times before speaking.

"M-Melody. What are you doing? Let's get inside."

She didn't show any sign that she'd heard him. She still stood there, her hands slightly lifted and her fingers extended, as if she tried to touch the rain. Sam found himself breathless once again. Happened pretty often these days.

"Mel—" he tried again.

"Sam. If you'd just shut up for a minute."

He obeyed. She never stopped smiling while she spoke and she didn't open her eyes. Sam didn't even know what it was that had him so mesmerized. It wasn't the way her clothes clung to her body. At least, not entirely, because he'd have had to be either blind or gay not to gulp a little at how incredibly beautiful she looked right now. Yeah, sure, physically, too, because Melody was really what Dean would've called smoking hot. But right now, her beauty was some kind of glow. She looked… peaceful. Almost happy, if possible. He was so curious and eager to know what it was that put her through this mood he didn't even realize he'd been holding his breath until she spoke.

"This is all we have, Sam," she said, and he could hear a hint of bitterness in her voice, although she was still smiling. "This, right now. Moments. Bits to remind us we're still alive. I live for these little things."

She finally opened her eyes and turned to him, and Sam blew the air through his mouth and smiled, his eyes wide, when he noticed the intensity of her whole being in that instant. Her smile widened and she extended her arms and started to spin a little, laughing, so that he couldn't help but laugh as well.

"It's amazing!" she yelled, and then she stopped spinning and faced him. "I love this. I love rain. There's nothing that can wake my senses like this. Mark my words, Winchester. Bits to remind us we're alive. That's how you survive."

He nodded at her absent-mindedly, not so focused on her words as he was on her, taking her in. Part of him knew what was happening now was inevitable, but he wasn't ready to admit that. So instead he smiled against the rain at her and she returned his smile, pouring her whole heart in that smile.

"Yeah," Sam answered eventually, his voice a little muted by the sound of rain and thunder, but she heard him nonetheless. "Now let's get inside before your sister finds us. We're soaking wet."

She nodded, but laughed whole-heartedly. Yeah. They were. And she couldn't remember when was the last time she'd felt as light and carefree as she had today.

"Told you I know how to use an angel blade," Emma chuckled as she removed the blade away from Cas' neck and she helped him up on his feet.

The angel smoothed his trench coat a little dizzy, clearly not having expected her performance on such a high level.

"It's true," he admitted. "Your skills are far better than I expected. But simple hand to hand combat and good use of an angel blade won't grant you victory in the battle that's to come. You have to figure out a way to put your powers in your fighting style."

Emma nodded and bit her lip, visibly unsatisfied with his strategy. Cas tilted his head, confused by her change of heart. She always walked in on him completely enthusiast and eager to constantly evolve. But today, he couldn't help but notice her excitement had slowly faded and he was curious as to why.

"What's wrong, Emma?" he asked her softly, taking a step towards her.

She looked up at him, seeming a little bit troubled for a second, but then she sighed and swirled the angel blade between her fingers until she grabbed it by the blade and gave it to Cas handle first.

"I don't know, Cas," she said, slightly distracted. "We're doing this thing now. But do we even have a plan? So far I've only gotten to read my attackers' auras to see how they feel about me and maybe heal if they decide to give me a paper cut. I feel like we're going the wrong way about it."

Cas looked at her confused. "I'm afraid I don't understand. What exactly do you ask of me?"

Emma smiled sadly. "I'm not asking anything _of you_, Cas. You don't have to do anything for me. But at this point, we should be discussing strategy to get rid of the angels on our tails. Just tell me what to do and I'll do it."

Castiel shook his head, still missing one of the points she was trying to make.

"I'm not letting you fight this war alone, Emma," he told her.

"It's not your war to fight to begin with; it's mine," she retorted. "I told you, I just need you to coach me and I'll figure the rest out myself. I don't even know why you'd want to get involved."

Cas walked to her and stopped right in front of her, looking at her intently, making her shift a little.

"Maybe it's not my war. But you're the only person who's never asked anything of me. Which makes me claim this as at least my battle."

Emma watched him wide-eyed, a little taken aback by his sudden admission. She didn't really know what to make of it, and neither did Cas know how to fully explain this feeling that made him involved at all costs. It was some sort of protective instinct like it was with the Winchester, only so much more different when it came to Emma. Eventually, she chuckled lightly.

"Well, I can't say I completely understand your logic here. And we still need that strategy, whether it's a war or a battle or a hit-and-run or whatever."

Cas smiled a little sad. "I do have a strategy. I was just waiting for you to be ready."

She waited for him to elaborate, which he didn't right away. He eventually answered, "I want you to close the gates of Heaven."

Emma blinked. She waited for his words to get through to her brain, trying hard to process and actually having a hard time to do so.

"You want me to—"

"Close the gates of Heaven. It's the only way. It won't be easy at all and it requires a lot of synchronicity and perfect strategy. And you're the only one who can do it. I already lost my grace in the process and I ended up—"

"Whoa," Emma raised her hands in front of her. "Whoa, whoa there, Cas. I can't just snap my fingers and send the angels to their room. And, and, what about you? I can't lock you up there with them."

Cas averted her gaze and Emma raised her eyebrows at him.

"What?" she inquired. "I won't lock you up in Heaven, Cas. Those guys want you dead even more than they want _me_ dead, assuming I can even pull off such a scheme."

"That won't be an issue," he responded calmly.

"How can it not be an issue? No matter how much I want to put an end to all of this and win this stupid war, I won't do it, not at this cost. I won't sacrifice you."

"Emma, you won't. Because I'm staying here."

She raised her eyebrows even higher, if possible and shook her head in confusion. Of all the turns this conversation could have taken, this, she had not seen coming.

"What do you—"

"I mean," he cut her off, anticipating her question. "I'm staying behind. With all of you."

"B-but, Cas," she stammered. "It's your home."

He nodded and met her gaze. "It most certainly used to be. But Heaven won't take me back, Emma. And I won't go back either, leaving you behind. The Winchesters are my family, my home now. And you—"

He trailed off, looking at her with a shattering intensity. He opened his mouth a few times, trying to find words, and Emma worried for a minute about what he was gonna say and how much it had the power to change things between them. After all, this was… Cas.

"You said you didn't understand my earlier logic," he settled eventually. "When I said you're the only one who never asked anything of me, which is why I need to fight this battle for you." Emma nodded. "Because you don't demand it out of me, I have to protect you. Because you don't even know you need me to."

Emma nodded breathlessly, and Cas smiled warmly at her in one of those small gestures he did so rarely, they just made her anticipate them and appreciate them so much more.

"Are you sure?" she asked him.

"Absolutely. It's all worth it."

**Hey, you guys! Sorry for the teeny tiny delay, but here it is, chapter 16. Have they really been 16 already? Geesh. Can't send enough love for you all!**

**Well, in case any of you were curious, I have in mind some songs that would be perfect for some of the moments and the characters in the story that I always listen to on repeat when I write certain scenes, and you might want to pop them in a tab in youtube when you read them, too. It certainly sets the scene. Here goes:**

**Gabrielle Aplin-Salvation (for every scene with Dean and Emma)**

**Michael Malarkey-The bells still ring (for every scene with Mel and Sam, beaaaauuutiful lyrics)**

**Birdy-Not about angels (scenes with Emma and Cas)**

**Also, if your curiosity is at stake today, and I'm totally pushing it here, but I have this personal blog of mine, where I post some poetry, for those of you who are interested in such things. You can find it here: . **

**So, anyway, phew, that was a long A.N. Thank you again, like every single time, for being there for me! You're all amazing! We have 4,550 views and counting and you have no idea how much it matters to me! Love you all, xoxo.**


	18. Chapter 17: Bittersweet

**SPOILER ALERT! Hey, guys! I just thought I'd make a quick comment here, so that you're all in tune with how I want things to go from now on. My story was set little after the mid-season finale, when Dean kills those people who aggressed Claire Novak. So everything that happened on the show AFTER that episode doesn't happen in this story because I pretty much created the plot from that moment on. Therefore, Dean doesn't kill Cain, Rowena has no part in it whatsoever and Cas doesn't get his grace back yet. No Book of The Damned, blah blah blah, you got the drill. Just thought I should make that clear.**

**Enjoy the chapter!**

Emma stuck her head in Melody's room. Her little sister was sitting on her bed, thoroughly cleaning her gun.

"Hey, Mel," the older sister smiled. "Got a minute?"

Melody returned a wide smile.

"Of course. Something happened?"

Emma opened the door and walked in, closing it behind her, then she sat next to her sister on the bed, glaring at her.

"No, Melody, nothing happened," she told her sharply. "Does it take something happening to get me to talk to you these days?"

Mel shot her an embarrassed look. "True. So, what's up, then?"

Emma shrugged. "Just wanted to know what you've been up to. It's been some crazy weeks. I feel like I haven't talked to you in ages."

She leaned back on the headboard of Mel's bed and watched her warmly. Melody put the gun away and jumped on the bed next to her sister, resting her head on Emma's shoulder and cuddling next to her like they used to do when they were kids. Like when Emma was in high school and she came home, stayed in her room reading, and little Mel would burst into the room. Sometimes she'd bug her older sister until she gave in and played with her. But other times, Melody just sat there, on the bed, occasionally talking or just sitting in silence next to each other. Things were so much simpler back then.

"It sure as hell feels this way," Mel mumbled. "How you holding up, Em?"

"I'm fine. You okay?"

"Peaches."

Emma chuckled. Of course, even if she wasn't fine, it's not like Melody would ever admit so. By now, they were used to trying to be the closest thing to okay they could get.

"I'm sorry things have been bad lately," Emma squeezed her sister's hand. "We'll fix this, I promise. We'll figure it out. We always do."

Mel nodded and gave a little squeeze back.

"Okay."

"Okay," Emma chuckled softly. "So, tell me. You and Sam look pretty close these days."

She couldn't see Mel's face, but she knew her sister well enough to be able to tell she was blushing her face off, only by the way she was fidgeting.

"Not really," Mel answered bluntly.

Emma waited for her to elaborate, and when it became clear Melody wouldn't, she knew her suspicions had been most accurate. There was a story here and she needed to hear it.

"How come?" she inquired. "You guys have spent a lot of time together these past few days. I though the two of you really hit it off."

"So did I," Mel's words escaped her lips before she could stop them, and when she saw her sister cork an eyebrow at her, she knew she'd said too much. She paused, unsure of what else to say.

"Talk," Emma demanded, and she sighed.

"I thought we'd hit it off, too, okay? You and Dean seem to get along just fine, so I thought, yeah, why not? Maybe Sam and I could be friends. It's clear we can't, because Sam clearly doesn't intend to."

She had moved away from Emma while speaking and was now leaning against the headboard as well, arms crossed against her chest. Maybe this whole thing with Sam was bothering her more than she wanted to admit. A little too much.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Emma surprised her by asking.

"What?"

"What's all that crap about you wanting to be friends with Sam and him not wanting to?"

"Em, please," Melody rolled her eyes at her sister. "Just drop it, okay? It's fine. He's nice with me, and I'll take what I can get. We don't have to braid each other's hair or anything. Business is business."

"Mel, cut the crap. I know you. And I know myself when enough to make some educated guesses regarding Sam. And even if I didn't, I've been on to your auras all week."

Melody frowned.

"W-What do you—"

"Mel," Emma smiled gently. "I noticed you have a thing for Sam even before I could read your aura. And it's okay. I know letting someone in after all this time can be a little scary, but I couldn't imagine a better person to open up to than Sam. Trusting the guy is like trusting myself, so that goes without saying."

She attempted a smile and waited for one in return at her joke, but Melody stayed straight-faced.

"Melody—"

"No, Em," she sighed. "Let it go. There's nothing to talk about. Even thinking about it isn't up for discussion in this line of work. And there's nothing going on here. Drop it, okay?"

Emma threw her hands in the air, already exasperated. She turned a little to face Melody.

"Melody, you can't claim that there's nothing going on here. Not when I see the way your aura brightens when he enters the room or the way his goes from light purple to soft pink whenever he steals glances at you when you're not looking."

Mel blinked for a second, taking in her sister's words then she shook her head.

"No, Em, don't do that. Don't tell me that. I don't care if his aura does little rainbow flip-flops or if mine does heart patterns in the air. I really didn't need to know that."

She hit her head lightly against the headboard and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Well, that's too bad," Emma rolled her eyes at her. "Because you should know that. It's the way it is. I don't know what kind of misunderstanding is going on between the two of you, but there's more to it. Just wait, you'll see. You guys will meet halfway."

Melody sighed, but made no retort. "Does he really steal glances when I'm not looking?"

Emma chuckled and rested her head on Melody's shoulder, enjoying their little moment.

"All the time, silly. And don't act like you haven't been doing it, too."

Mel nudged her. "I could say the same thing, couldn't I?" she asked Em, wiggling her eyebrows.

The older sister frowned. "What?"

"Come on," Melody rolled her eyes. "You're busting my ass about it, but it's not like you and Cas haven't been chasing tails around each other, too."

Emma raised her head from Mel's shoulder and gasped in indignation, but she was smiling, despite blushing like hell.

"There's nothing going on between me and Cas," she shrieked, keeping her voice low as a whisper. "That's different."

"It really isn't. Well, actually, it is. It's nowhere near as complicated. If I have to struggle to decipher Sam, it's pretty obvious Castiel is on a fluffy cloud since you came around."

Emma was still blushing, but at a closer look, Melody noticed a somehow sad smile on her lips.

"It really is pretty obvious," she admitted. "And I like Cas a lot. He's been a real help these past few weeks and we did connect. I think it's really good for him being closed to a human being. And he makes me feel really safe."

"Uh oh," Mel interrupted. "Here comes the 'but'."

Emma didn't answer, she just shrugged, but that said more than any words she might have used.

"I freaking knew it," Melody exclaimed. "Cas may have it bad for you and I betcha he does, sis. But there's the but."

"Nope. No but. That's all. He has a thing. He's a confused angel. I'm a confused human. No more buts."

"Mm hmm," Mel pursed her lips. "And what about Dean?"

"What about Dean?" Emma played dumb.

"Em, I don't have your aura mojo, but I'm sure if I did, yours and Dean's would be up the hills when you're in the same room. And I know you—"

"Can we just not talk about it anymore?" Emma cut her off mid-sentence. "Let's just admit life with the boys is complicated. And our feelings are really messed up."

"Hey, you're the one who popped into my room willing to hunt some chick flick moment."

Emma chuckled. "True. But I'm glad I did."

A couple of hours later, Emma was sitting in the library, across from Dean. It was somehow hard for her to do this after the conversation she'd had with her sister, but as she was already used to, she set every feeling scratching the surface aside and focused on the argument they were having.

"Dean, I get your obsession with classic rock, but that doesn't mean you get to discredit my favorite movie."

He huffed.

"I still don't get that," he pointed his finger at her. "I have no freaking clue how a smart girl like you can like August Rush. I mean, come on, it's cheap."

Emma blushed a little when he called her 'smart girl', but gasped when he called her favorite movie cheap. Now that was unforgivable.

"How dare you," she shrieked. "Did you even watch it?"

"I don't need to. I already know it sucks."

Emma threw her hands in the air exasperated. "But you don't! That's the thing. You can't compare it to your rock ballads and say it sucks until you've listened to 'Moon Dance'."

It would've went on and on for hours if they hadn't been interrupted. In fact, they had grown used to constantly having different opinions and constantly arguing and disagreeing. It didn't even bother them anymore. By now, it was a part of their relationship. This little bickering actually brought them closer. But just as Dean opened his mouth for another mockery regarding August Rush, Sam came in, a deep frown on his face while he was talking on the phone.

"Yeah, sure," he spoke gravely. "Don't worry about it. We'll take care of it."

Emma and Dean abandoned the subject and turned their attention to Sam, who looked overly concerned. Just as he was about to open his mouth, Melody popped into the library.

"Why the long faces, fellas?" she raised an eyebrow at them.

Sam pointed at his phone.

"That was Roger. One of the hunters who went after Nemesis," he explained. "Apparently, five other hunters are dead and he barely made it out alive. No other hunter wants to go after her. We're supposed to clean up our mess."

"What?" Melody shrieked. "But it's been weeks. They still haven't gotten her?"

"Apparently not," Sam answered. "She's pulling some crazy schemes. She proclaimed herself mayor and has the locals dumb-folded, using them as casual snacks. Hunters haven't really been able to get too close to her, and those who have, well, they're dead."

Dean clapped his hands together. "Peachy. I was craving some witchy murder anyway. When do we leave?"

"Whoa," Emma raised a hand. "Shouldn't we think this through a little?"

"What's to think through?" Dean retorted. "We go there, gank the bitch, grab some pie and come back here. Perfect plan."

"No, Dean, she's right," Sam cut him off. "Last time we went into it head first, look where that got us. This is not a witch, it's a goddess."

"Not to mention the fact that, if hunters can barely get too close to her, our chances are even lower considering she's already seen the three of you, guys," Emma added.

"Well, then what do you suggest we do, miss smarty-pants?" Dean snapped. "We gotta take a shot."

"He's right," Sam agreed. "It's not much of a choice. Roger's right, we gotta clean up our mess."

"Unless—" Emma began, and all the eyes in the room turned to her, including Cas', who she hadn't even heard coming in. "You said she could recognize you and you wouldn't have the opportunity to get near. What if I go instead?"

They were all silent for a few minutes, processing her words and blinking confused. But as soon as they realized what she was saying, they exploded. The first one was Melody, whose eyes widened and Emma could practically see a vein pulsating on behind her temple.

"Oh no. No, no, no. Hell no. I see how you'd wanna go all suicidal and heroic again, but no way am I letting you do that again. Nuh-uh. We're either going all of us or none of us."

"Emma, are you crazy?" Sam retorted, too. "It's too dangerous. You have no idea what you're up against."

Dean was silent for a few seconds, unable to react to Emma's words. And then he saw red again. It wasn't the violent kind of red that drove him murderous. It was more of a red that annihilated every other emotion to make room for a single one that was left: worrying for Emma. In a matter of seconds, the whole idea of letting her go alone flashed before his eyes, and he could only picture her hurt or kidnapped or tortured or worse. She knew the Bennett sisters were hunters, too, and that they were badass. But the thought of letting her go alone, to face that kind of danger that he'd been forced to run from, everything about that terrified him.

"Absolutely freakin' not," he growled under his breath, taking Emma a little aback with the intensity he spoke. "You're not going out there alone only to wind up dead."

"Dean—" she started slowly, but he closed his eyes and spoke even more fiercely, cutting her off.

"No. No way. Nemesis can go screw herself. I ain't putting anyone in danger. I ain't risking your life."

"I'll go with her."

The tension in the room shifted from the intensity of Dean's voice to Cas, who spoke for the first time since this conversation had started. All of them turned to him, not speaking, so he repeated the words.

"You're worried that you'll be recognized and that Emma would put herself in danger if she went alone. I can go with her. Nemesis doesn't know me either."

The four of them considered it. Dean didn't like this idea any more than he would've liked any idea that involved Emma going out there, but he had to admit what Cas suggested was pretty solid. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"I don't like this," he pointed his finger back and forth from Emma to Cas helplessly.

"I don't know, sounds pretty good to me," Sam shrugged.

Melody, on the other hand, remained silent, biting her lip. She was with Dean on this one and had been happy that he was backing her up about Emma not going. She was putting herself in enough danger already as it was, and Nemesis was a huge deal. But Dean was backing down now, and once again, her opinion weighted too little to be taken into consideration.

She sighed loudly and turned on her heels, about to leave the room.

"Mel—" Emma began when she noticed her sister leaving.

"No, Em, I don't wanna fight again if I can't win. You'll do whatever you wanna do anyway. Just do me a favor and don't die."

She gulped and forced a painful smile then she turned around and left the room before Emma got a chance to speak.

As soon as Melody left, Emma sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. She should've seen this coming. Mel was insanely overly protective these days. Sam noticed her and smiled warmly.

"Don't worry about it," he reassured her. "I'll talk to her. She's just concerned."

Emma nodded and forced back a smile, too. "So, how are we gonna do this?"

"I'll go online and figure out a way to sneak you in," Sam explained, opening his laptop. "From there forth, it's all on you. You gotta find a way to take Nemesis down."

Dean rubbed his face and ran a hand through his hair. He really_ really_ didn't like this.

"Cas, man," he breathed. "Tell me you have a plan. Tell me you'll both make it safe back here, tell me you'll be careful and that you won't let anything happen to her."

"A plan will be harder to craft," Cas admitted, and then his eyes flew to Emma and he knew this was a promise he didn't even need to make. "And don't worry. I'll protect her no matter what."

Emma rolled her eyes. "I'm right here, guys. Stop talking about me like I'm some rare fragile crystal."

"Guys, check this out," Sam called to them from behind his laptop. "Nemesis, a.k.a. Mayor Caroline Hayes, is hosting a charity reception. Free access."

Dean huffed. "I bet it's some sort of Swedish buffet for her."

"Most likely," Emma agreed. "So what, we go there just like that? Show up unannounced at a party?"

"Could work," Sam said. "You go to her and pose as newcomers, claim you're looking to settle in and find a way to take her aside and kill her."

Emma sighed. "Might be easier said than done. Let's get it over with."

**Hey, guys. Sorry from the bottom of my heart it took me so long to post this chapter, but my finals start next week and it's kind of a crazy timing right now. I'll try to update as often as I can, which might take a while, but I promise to keep a steady pace. **

**Anyway, hope you liked this little chapter. It's not a big deal, more of a setting of what's to come. Thank you all for being there for me and following this story, as usual! Lots of love, xoxo.**


	19. Chapter 18: The Unforgiven

Dean didn't know what he'd expected. I mean, Emma was a hunter. Hunters wore hoodies or jackets or jeans or boots and he'd never seen chick hunters be feminine or pull off some elegant crap. So maybe he'd expected Emma to come out of her room limping on some heels, groaning and pulling at some cheap dress.

He couldn't have been more wrong.

The person who came out of that room couldn't by any means be a hunter. He even had doubts she was the Emma she knew. Sure, Emma was sweet and gentle for a hunter, but she was still a hunter. But she walked out of her room and past them into the library with a steady cat walk, shoulders pulled back and hips swaying elegantly in a way that had Dean a little taken aback. And this was the easy part.

Emma was wearing a black dress. That's it. There wasn't much more to it. It was just… long and black. But man, was it enough. It had a deep V neck that showed enough cleavage to make his head spin, but not too much to make it vulgar. She was even wearing make-up and her hair was pulled back into a simple low kinda thing that chicks did, that up-do stuff that made them look so classy. On Emma, it was mind-blowing.

_What the hell is this? _Dean thought, gulping, and his brain shut down just then.

"Wow," Sam raised his eyebrows at her, smiling encouragingly. "You look surprisingly awesome."

Emma narrowed her eyes at him. "What do you mean 'surprisingly'?"

Sam's eyes widened in shock when he realized what he said and he stuttered. "Uh. Umm. I mean—"

Melody chuckled at his uneasiness. "I know, right? But I'll have you chuckleheads know that, even though we're hunters, we're girls first."

"Figures," Sam smiled awkwardly, nodding at Emma, who gave a small laugh.

"Dean?" she turned to him, noticing him standing there silent. "You okay?

He blinked for a few seconds, unable to draw his eyes away from her, when he realized she was talking to him then he gulped and cleared his voice.

"Yeah," he muttered, shaking his head a little. "You, uh, you look good."

She smiled a small smile at his half-assed attempt at a compliment and Cas stepped a little forward, his blue eyes holding a mesmerized glimpse.

"No," he whispered in his deep voice. "She looks more beautiful than Heaven's most breathtaking sights I've ever witnessed."

Emma's eyes widened and she felt her cheeks burn deep red at the compliment and she found herself unable to respond. What the hell were you supposed to say after something like that? With the corner of her eyes, she noticed Dean looking at Cas with his eyes a little narrowed in something she couldn't decipher, the corners of his mouth pulled down.

"You two be careful," he said, eventually. "This is a dangerous game you're playing. Anything pops up, any complication at all, you call us. And Cas, man. You better take good care of her."

He didn't look up throughout the last words, but judging by the intensity of his voice, he meant it enough to make eye contact totally uncalled for.

"Like I said," Cas nodded. "I won't let anything happen to her."

Emma rolled her eyes. "You guys sound like a divorced couple with a joint custody and I'm the kid. We'll be fine, Dean. And I can take care of myself."

Dean still didn't look her in the eye and pursed his lips.

"Okay," he barked eventually, which didn't convince Emma in the very least. She raised an eyebrow at him and he raised his hands in front of him. "Fine, fine. But you should at least be well armed."

He walked towards her and reached to the waistline of his jeans and pulled out a gun that he handed to her. Emma eyed it reluctantly.

"I already have a gun _and_ an angel blade."

"This isn't just some gun," Dean cut her off. "This is the Colt. It can kill literally anything. Since we've got jack squat on lore about how to kill the bitchy witch, I figured you could use this."

Emma shook her head, confused. "Wait, so this gun can kill _anything_?"

"Pretty much, yeah," Sam answered, and Emma could hear the surprise in his voice, so she assumed he first heard about it now, too. "But how did you—"

"Demon Dean had connections," Dean explained simply, and they all dropped it.

Emma eyed the gun for a moment, and Dean was about to suggest a purse, something she could keep near or something. But then, she took the gun from his hand, then she grabbed the bottom hem of her dress and pulled the fabric way up to her thigh, revealing her leg and the gun holder she had circling her thigh.

The reactions were different. Melody snickered. She knew Emma well enough to know she was a prude, so this was a nice adrenaline rush for a change for her. Cas put on his best poker face and tried hard to think about anything else and look anywhere else. Sam cleared his voice to fight laughter, partly because sexy and dangerous looked awesome on such a sweet person like Emma, but mostly because of the look of pure terror on Dean's face.

Dean had been completely taken aback. As in, he had expected anything but that. She already looked insanely hot in that dress and he was already having a hard time keeping his thoughts in line. What was worse was that she had no clue what she could do to him, how much it could affect him. He gulped, hardly, and made an effort to control his facial movements, because he felt completely retarded right now. He opened and closed his mouth, raised his eyebrows and frowned, made some non-sense gestures with his hands, and all this time, she was entirely oblivious.

She dropped the fabric of her dress and finally looked up, confused to find Dean so troubled.

"What?" she asked dumbly.

"Nothing," Dean answered quickly. "You should head out now."

He cleared his voice and stepped back from Emma, and she shrugged, still confused.

"We'll call you as soon as we're done," she assured them all, as she followed Cas out of the library.

"Be careful," she heard Melody call out after her, and she stopped for a second. This was the first time she had directly talked to her tonight. It took Emma aback how tormented her voice sounded, but even though she knew Mel hated this situation, there wasn't much she could do about it.

So she shot her sister a smile over her shoulder and whispered, "I will," praying that these wouldn't be the last exchange of words between them. Because it would've made a pretty lame one.

As soon as Emma and Cas were gone, Melody leaped out of her chair and headed out of the library. She had never felt more useless in her whole life. Existing as a hunter, it gave her the prospect of doing something, of changing something for the better, of making a difference. She and Emma had each other's backs and fought side by side as equals. Lately, it seemed as if Emma was the mother hen and she was the little baby chick. Her hands were so tied and she couldn't breathe.

Before she could get out of the library, Sam caught her elbow. She looked up at him, hoping he wouldn't see the helplessness in her eyes. Needless to say, nothing got past him.

"What's wrong? Where're you going?"

She gulped and slowly released herself from his grip. She wasn't in the mood to play fetch with Sam right now. She wasn't in the mood for anything except drink.

"My room," she answered shortly. "I need to be alone."

Sam sighed. "You know you can talk to me if you want to, right?"

Melody looked up at him. Really looked at him. Sam Winchester, the guy whose eyes she couldn't read into. The guy who made her skin tingle and her cheeks flush. No one had ever done that to her before. The guy who went against everything she'd ever thought she knew. She thought about how this thing about Sam and her was the most confusing of it all. What could she talk to him about, when half of her questions concerned him?

She spoke, her voice cracking a little. "No. I really can't."

She dropped her eyes, unable to look at him straight anymore. She caught sight of his shoulders slightly dropping and she wondered if her words had offended him, but she couldn't stick around to find out. So she walked past him into the hallway, leaving him a little wide-eyed and frowning.

Sam wasn't offended. No, far from that. He was hurt. Melody had been growing on him and he was finally starting to accept that. He had been starting to feel like things could be different. He wasn't hoping for much, but Mel telling him that she really couldn't talk to him was like a kick straight to the guts. It meant she didn't trust him. She had rather have been alone than have him around. He had no idea what to make of it.

He was left with his thoughts shortly after Emma and Cas took off, since Dean locked himself in his room, too, constantly checking his phone as if he expected Em and the angel to finish the job in under five minutes and come home with snacks. Sam paced around the library for half an hour by himself, Melody on his mind the whole time. He knew she didn't want to see him, but he didn't like not knowing if she was okay. He made up and changed his mind a few times, eventually deciding to screw it. He'd rather have her mad and throwing stuff at him than wondering how she was and worrying so much.

So he took a deep breath and made his way to her room. He raised his hand and knocked twice, cleared his voice and went through what he wanted to say to her, but there was no answer. He knocked again.

"Melody?" he tried and waited for a few more seconds. "Mel, are you there?" No answer. "Mel, come on. I know you wanna be alone, but I just wanted to make sure you're okay."

When she still didn't answer, he started to worry. So he made the bold call to open the door and peak in, noticing Melody wasn't inside.

"Huh," he exclaimed. He wondered where she could've been. He considered it for a few moments then he headed to Dean's room. Maybe he knew something. He knocked twice and entered.

"Hey," he said, then his attention was caught by the TV. "Are you— What are you watching?"

Dean remained silent, dead set on ignoring his brother. Sam chuckled. "Isn't that the girly drama movie Emma liked?"

"Shut up," Dean growled. "I was bored and worried and I need something to throw at her face when she comes back."

"Sure, whatever makes you feel better," Sam choked on his laughter. "Listen, did you see Melody?"

Dean looked at him with the corner of his eye, still grumpy over Sam mocking him about the movie thing.

"No, why?"

Sam frowned. "I wanted to talk to her, but she's not in her room."

Dean shrugged and Sam turned on his heels and left, by now seriously wondering where the hell she was. Then realization hit him so badly he wanted to smack his forehead. Of course. The garage. Mel was upset, so she must've gone to work on her bike.

But when he went inside the garage, not only wasn't Melody there. The motorcycle was missing, too. Sam blinked, confused, then the pieces started to connect in his head. Mel was gone.

"Son of a bitch."

After the little moment she'd had with Sam, Mel did go to her room. She just didn't stay there for too long. As soon as the feeling of guilt about being so harsh with Sam started to creep in, she knew she had to do something. Get it out of her system. Drink it away. So she told herself, 'screw this', grabbed her jacket and went straight to the garage. She patted her motorcycle and hoped she could make a good use of those driving lessons.

"Don't let me down, baby," she whispered and she took the bike out, adrenaline pumping through her body too violently to feel any kind of concern.

When she climbed on her motorcycle, she knew she couldn't have made a better call, that there wasn't any other place she'd have rather been right now or anything else that could've made her feel better. Maybe just somewhere she could have a drink and blow off some steam. But that could also be remedied. She let her baby growl a little and she smirked against the wind as she took the road to the nearest bar.

She handled the driving part pretty well, in a way that would've made Sam proud, had she allowed herself to think of him now. The nearest bar turned out to be near, indeed. She pulled over in front of a shady place called 'Rodeo', but she didn't afford being too picky at the moment. Emma would've wrinkled her nose so badly at this, but then again, she didn't want to think about that either, considering her sister stood a good chance of not making it back alive.

Holding this thought, she walked inside and headed straight for the bar.

"Whisky. Neat," she ordered, and the bartender shot her a look. She glared back. "What?"

"Nothing," the bartender smiled. "I just have my fair share of chicks who think they can hold their liquor."

Mel arched an eyebrow. "And you think I can't?" The guy shrugged unimpressed and she clicked her tongue. "You willing to bet against it?"

This got a good laugh out of the guy. "That's original, I'll give you that."

"How about this," Mel whispered, leaning a little over the counter, which made the guy lose focus for a second; yeah, she still had her game. Sam Winchester could suck it. "If I can still walk straight after five shots, you're buying me the sixth one."

She bit her lip, holding his gaze, and she saw him gulp a little. Poor guy stood no chance.

"Or," he said eventually, placing an empty glass in front of her and pouring some whisky into it. "How about I buy you the first drink so that you don't get drunk on my ass, and we get to have a nice chat, too?"

Mel smiled flirtatiously. How she loved the game.

"Or," she mimicked him, the she grabbed his hand and pushed her glass into it. "We both have a drink and that chat?"

The guy smiled dorky, making Mel think how sweet this whole thing would've been, had the circumstances been different.

"Good enough for me," he said and extended his hand. "I'm Jace."

For a minute, she considered giving him a fake name for safety reasons. But then she thought of how badly she needed at least something to feel real tonight, so she returned his smile and shook his hand. "Melody. Now let's drink up, Jace."

Half an hour later, through the door of the same shady bar walked Sam, wearing a worried frown on his face. He'd been desperately looking for Mel, freaking out thinking that something might have happened to her, when he saw her motorcycle parked outside 'Rodeo'. His eyes scanned the crowd and his gaze finally found her familiar shape, leaning over the counter, casually touching the bartender's forearm, throwing her head back laughing at some joke he told.

Sam felt his blood boiling and a vein pulsating in his temple. He tried to contain himself and tone down his anger, but by the time himself behind her, he was already seeing red.

"Melody," he hissed, trying not to make a scene. "Where the hell have you been?"

She froze for a second then she turned slowly to face him, still smiling dumbly. Sam could tell she was pretty tipsy.

"Busted," she whispered to the bartender, and the guy chuckled. "Hiya, Sammy. I've been right here all along. Drinking up."

He pursed his lips and gave her a bitch face that left Melody unimpressed. He was clearly going to have a couple of problems getting her out of here, seeing as she didn't look as if she had any intention to cooperate. Sam took a step closer to her and he grabbed her arm. She narrowed her eyes at him, but stayed silent. The bartender, however, looked like he considered jumping over the counter in Mel's defense, but seeing as Sam was a giant 6'4'' dude, the guy seemed to have some self-preservation instinct.

Sam dropped his voice and he got a little closer to Melody. "Your sister is out there risking her life. She's doing it now and she's been doing it every day now so that she can make it safe and better for you both. And you're here, soaked in alcohol, chickening out on us all. That's coward, Melody."

He could hear her gulp and took a step back to see that she had her jaw tightened and that her whole masquerade from was now gone. She was back to being business Melody, focused and angry, except Sam was now the object of her anger, more or less deserving it, but she was too blinded by it to consider who was worthy of it.

Holding his gaze, her green eyes burning with rage, she grabbed her leather jacket and she shot the bartender a look over her shoulder.

"Jace, we're leaving. How much do I owe you?"

The guy, Jace, looked at her dumb-folded for a minute and simply blinked.

"Um, no, um, nothing," he scratched the back of his neck. "I told you it's on me. But, uh, why're you leaving so soon?"

Melody wasn't looking at him anymore, going back to glaring at Sam. "Thanks, Jace," she said simply then she walked past Sam, bumping her shoulders into his arm.

Sam sighed and went after her, catching up with her outside with her outside the bar.

"Mel—Melody, wait."

She turned abruptly on her heels to face him, her nostrils flaring.

"What gives you the right?" she hissed. "How dare you walk in on me like this and act like you get any say whatsoever in the choices I make? How _dare_ you criticize me, especially when you know _exactly_ how I feel about this whole damn thing?"

Sam opened and closed his mouth a few times, a little taken aback by the amplitude of her outburst. He had expected her to snap, but not to this extent.

"Let me shed some light on you," she continued, pointing her finger at him. "You. Don't."

She dropped her finger and was about to walk away from him, when they both heard the front door of the bar open and Jace came out. He held his hands in front of him awkwardly.

"Sorry, guys," he smiled tensely. "I know it's a bad timing, but, Mel, I was wondering if I could, maybe, have a work with you?"

Melody sighed and forced a smile at him, when Sam placed himself in front of her protectively and shot the poor guy his best scary look. Fortunately, although Jace seemed a little thrown off, he wasn't very impressed.

"No," Sam barked at Jace. "She's coming with me. You can go back inside."

"I don't freaking believe you," Melody cried, throwing her hands in the air. "No, I'm not, Sam, what the hell is wrong with you? Jace, of course we can talk, come here."

She darted past Sam and took Jace by the shoulder, leading him a few steps away from Sam's scrutinizing gaze.

"What's up?" she tried to ask him sweetly when she was sure they were out of earshot.

"Look, we don't have much time," he rushed, and Melody just blinked at the sudden shift of tension. "I know who that guy is. And I know who you are."

Mel's hunter instinct kicked in and she reached for her pocket knife, but Jace caught sight of her action and he shook her head.

"There's no need to. I'm here to help you. I know what your sister's trying to do." He reached to the inside pockets of his jacket and Melody tensed, getting into fight mode, but he only pulled out a little white card. "Here's my number. Your boyfriend seems to be getting anxious. Give me a call as soon as you can. This is really important."

"He's not my—" Melody began, but then she remembered this wasn't even her biggest issue at the moment. "But how do you—"

She didn't get to finish her sentence, because Jace's prediction turned out to be right and Sam appeared behind her before she could finish her sentence.

"Everything alright?" he asked sharply, staring Jace down, clearly having sensed the tension that was going on here.

Emma shoved Jace's number into her pocket and rolled her eyes at Sam. Then she decided she couldn't take any more of his crap and turned her back on both of them, calling an 'I'll give you a ring' over her shoulder at Jace. She climbed on her motorcycle before Sam could stop her, the bartender's words echoing in her head. Now that had gotten her worried.

"Melody, what are you doing?" Sam called after her.

"Going back to the bunker."

"You can't drive like that. You drank and you're not in full control of the bike," he warned her, but by the time he finished the sentence, her baby already roared and she set it on the road, leaving Sam and Jace and the 'Rodeo' behind, thinking about Emma and only Emma. Sam had been an ass about it, but he was also right. She was a coward. Emma was really busting her ass while she was nothing but whining and being a baby about it. She had to stop being useless. And while every instinct in her body told her otherwise, maybe Jace could be of good use in this matter.

Her brain was already going fuzzy and she allowed herself to squeeze her eyes a little, because she was having troubles focusing on the road. But one second was all it took for the road to swirl and for the bike to overtake her power of controlling it. And next thing she knew, she was thrown in the air and her body hit hard ground.

**Hey guys! Once again, sorry for the small delay, buy you know the drill. Med school's sucking the life out of me. But I can't really disappoint you, can I? Which is why I really hope you'll like this chapter.**

**First things first, I thought you should get a peek at how I pictured Emma's dress for this occasion, and I'll have you know I found one that PERFECTLY matches how I had it in my head. So, here: emm/set?id=152889342&amp;p=3**

**Also, my dearest reviewer Richelle Manuels asked me if I had a face claim for Emma and Melody. Well, it's a funny coincidence that you asked me that, because I was just going to mention that in this chapter, you just got ahead of me. Yes, I do. If I had to choose a perfect Emma, it would be Emma Watson, and for Melody, Natalie Dormer is absolutely perfect. You can check my profile for some pictures of them to get the idea. Oh, and also, Jace, the new character from this chapter, I think the best personification of him would be Daniel Sharman.**

**Well, that's all folks. These chapters at this point of the story are really fun (maybe not the best choice of word) to write, and if time allows it, I'll make sure to update asap. I want to thank all of you for sparing a few minutes of your time to post a teeny tiny review for me, the feedback you're giving me is always welcome. And even to my non-reviewers, I want to say thank you for sparing those minutes to just read my teeny tiny story. Love you all! xoxo**


	20. Chapter 19: Oh, the rush

Cas and Emma took the angel's car, since the girls usually traveled by stolen cars and there was no way in hell Dean would've let them touch the Impala, and they'd agreed on Cas driving them there. Emma had expected things to be awkward between her and Cas, since they'd never had the chance to talk outside the context of their training, so she'd been afraid there'd be plenty of loaded silence to fill.

It wasn't like that at all. Sure, neither of them was particularly chatty, but the silence wasn't heavy, it was actually refreshing. There was no need for words or the heaviness of small talk, maybe because they'd already managed to learn so much about each other without really talking at all. The grace they both had had created some sort of connection that went beyond words, because they understood each other. Holding these thoughts, Emma smiled to herself, a movement that translated into her face and that Cas didn't miss.

"You seem well, given the circumstances," he noted.

Emma wrinkled her nose playfully.

"I'm holding up fine," she agreed. "And I have to thank you for this."

Cas turned his head in her direction abruptly, frowning.

"Me? Why me?"

"Because you taught me balance," she explained and smiled warmly at him, which made him stare at her for a few seconds before shifting his attention back to the road, the tips of his ears a little red. "The time I spent with you in training were some sort of peace that I craved for, the peace I needed, and you gave me that. You settled me back on my feet. So thanks, Cas."

Cas had no idea what to say. Gratitude was a human experience he wasn't entirely familiar with. The Winchesters had a somewhat different way to express their appreciation and acknowledgement, if any. He knew they were grateful, but it had always been something rather deduced than stated. And he felt a little clumsy, having it spelled out for him like that; especially by Emma, whom he should've thanked for shredding light over some aspects of his existence that hadn't dawned on him in this long existence of his.

"You're welcome," he mumbled eventually, and Emma read through his uneasiness and gave a light chuckle. It was so funny how these little things and habits of hers held the power of entertaining him to such extent. She was fascinating.

"Don't get me wrong, though," she joked. "I'm coping and it was nice having you around to help me with that, but I can't wait for this whole thing to be over." She sighed and her mood shifted instantly. "No more angel grace mojo. No more running. No more sleeping with my eyes half open and a gun under my pillow. No more endless angel training."

She saw Cas' face fall a little and she instantly regretted her words.

"If you're unhappy with our training, we can—"

"No, Cas, no," she reassured him, rubbing her forehead awkwardly. "That's not at all what I meant. I genuinely enjoy our training. It's the best part of this all. I just wish our meeting didn't have to happen in the context of preparing for an angel war. I'd like some peace and quiet for a change."

Seconds passed and she could feel tension building up inside the car. Now this was the heavy silence she never liked. She wondered what caused this sudden change of mood in Cas. She channeled some grace and took a peak at his aura, just to see that it was all over the place, constantly changing shape. Now, she wasn't an expert in it yet, but this much she'd figured out by now. He was nervous. What the hell makes an angel nervous?

"As a matter of fact, this is actually a good idea," Cas stated bluntly, making Emma jump a little. "For the time after we'll have gone through with the angel war and it's all over."

"What?" Emma asked dumbly, and Cas turned a little to look at her.

"You said you hate that we have to meet in the context of preparing for an angel war. And I was thinking that, when the angel war is over, the best solution would be to change the context. I believe we could find a more suitable way to meet."

Emma blinked. She waited for him to elaborate, but he didn't seem to think there was anything wrong with his explanation and he just waited tensely for her to speak.

And that's when she realized and couldn't help a smile from spreading across her lips. No. Way.

"Castiel," she began in a joking tone. "Are you asking me out?"

His eyes widened as did Emma's smile at his clumsiness.

"I'm not entirely sure," Cas admitted, which earned him another chuckle. "I believe this is the modern nomenclature. At least, I think it's what Dean would call it. I certainly wouldn't mind the implications."

Emma's smile faltered a little when she realized the implications of it. Cas was asking her out. And she was flattered, a little flustered, too, but for some reason, her mind flew to Dean when he mentioned him. This was such a bad timing for her to start figuring out her feelings for him. This was about Cas and about him asking her out. So why was she thinking about how wrong it was, considering how things were between her and Dean? There was nothing going on, per se. But the mere fact that she knew something _could _happen between them made her feel like it wasn't fair. There was also the fact that it could not.

"Oh, Cas," she exclaimed, her cheeks turning slightly red. "I'm so flattered, I am. But this is something we wanna talk about when we get back at the bunker, safe and sound. Not on our way to kill an ancient vengeful witch."

Cas gave her that little half smile of his that made her heart warm up in genuine affection for the angel. She tried to read into this affection she felt for him, though. What kind of affection was it? Was it friendly? Was it dateable material? Or mostly, was it the same affection she felt towards Dean? Well, at least this one was easy. Absolutely not. What she felt for Dean was a mixture of attraction and something else she couldn't quite recognize or accept or reason with yet. With Cas and Dean, there were two entirely different slices of pie.

"Of course," Cas agreed to her point of it being a bad timing. "Now's clearly not a good moment."

Emma smiled back at him. "Glad we have that settled."

They rode in silence for the rest of the way, the same comforting silence they had enjoyed in the beginning. They arrived in town shortly after sundown, after having combined their powers to cloak themselves from Nemesis' witchy radar. It was a long shot and a huge risk, but it was one they had to take if they wanted to get close to her, and just hope they wouldn't get caught.

Cas pulled over in front of the mayor's hall and went on the other side of the car to open Emma's door.

"So, how are we gonna do this?" Emma asked as soon as Cas closed the door behind her. "We just walk in and put a bullet through her brain?"

"No," Cas told her, as he offered her his arm in order to partner her. Emma eyed it surprised, not having expected Cas to turn out to be such a gentleman; and he didn't even seem to realize it, as he went on with his strategy. "We go in, we approach her posing as potential buyers of one of the penthouses she has up for sale then you'll be left alone with her to play your role. Act scared, terrified of me. Tell her you know the Winchesters and that you can lead her to them granted your safety. Then find a way to bring her to me."

Emma nodded. "I could tell her the boys are here, planning an ambush."

"Yes, it could work. It all depends on how well you play your card."

"Don't worry about me," she reassured him. "I'll bring her just where I want to. But what are you gonna do? You're running low on grace."

"I'll figure something out."

Emma's eyes widened in shock and she stopped walking, turning her full body to Cas.

"What do you mean you'll figure something out? Cas—"

"Emma," he cut her off. "Don't worry. Worst case scenario, we have the Colt."

Emma sighed and she looked around, making sure no one saw them, but she still pulled Cas around a corner to avoid any possible unwanted encounter. Then she pulled up the hem of her dress and pulled out the gun, handing it to Cas.

"You mean best case scenario," she corrected him, a little short of breath as the adrenaline of what they had gotten themselves into and the worry she felt for Cas kicked in. "We can't take any chances. You shoot the bitch and quit trying to play hero."

Cas wanted to refuse and assure her that he was going to be fine, but truth was, he didn't know if he would and lying to Emma felt more wrong that any lie he'd ever told. And when he saw the terrified look on her face, he knew this wasn't up for discussion, so he took the Colt from her hand and sighed. Emma exhaled in relief.

"Let's go," he prompted and offered his arm again and she took it, smiling a little.

They walked through the doors of the town hall like they were pulled out of a fairytale. The elegant lady and the holy accountant. Cas (or rather his vessel) was a handsome man, and with Emma by his side, walking steady on high heels, her dress flowing down on her slim body, all the eyes in the room were on them.

"This is a little more attention than we needed," Emma whispered to Cas, keeping her sweet smile on her face.

"Don't worry," Cas told her. "Let's just focus on the task at hand."

Emma nodded and looked around her to see if she could find madam mayor, the bitchy witch. But it was hard to focus on the task of hand, of killing an ancient monster, when nothing in here seemed any dangerous at all. The people she'd expected to look absolutely terrified were actually having fun, like there was nothing wrong at all. Like there was no monster regarding them as snacks.

"They're under her control," Cas guessed her thought. "They have no idea what's going on. She has them under a powerful spell. Gruesome, I know."

Emma shivered a little. Nemesis knew how to play her card. And this made it hard for her to keep her head on the hunt, because it looked like a regular party, with good food and good music and she felt herself slip a little, wishing she could just socialize with normal human beings and dance and make some friends. _Except they're not exactly regular human beings,_ she reminded herself. They were appetizers.

"Good evening."

Emma jumped and she felt Cas squeeze the hand that was on his arm in reassurance. The small movement calmed her a little. They turned around to face a petite woman in her early 30s, her hair coal black and eyes reddish brown. She looked so normal otherwise. She was even wearing a gray office dress that gave the impression of a serious political woman, independent and powerful. But those eyes, those eyes held the reminder of a cruelty that Emma couldn't miss, a hunger and mischief that made the blood in her veins run cold.

"I haven't seen you in town before," she stated, her scrutinizing gaze traveling from Cas to Emma, trying to figure out how they'd gotten past her. "So I ought to bid you welcome. How may I help you?"

Emma pursed her lips and looked at Cas, hoping she could transfer the terror that Nemesis awoke in her into the role-play of looking scared of Cas. He realized what she was trying to do and put on his best scary face. And man, she sometimes forgot he was a celestial being that held the power of turning people into dust.

"Me and my wife are looking for a place to settle," he explained, hard-faced, and Emma dropped her gaze in what she hoped was obedience. "We heard this is a nice small town and that you have penthouses up for sale."

Nemesis narrowed her eyes at him, clearly sensing something wrong. Emma's heart was beating like crazy and she was hoping with all her might for this plan to work.

"It's true," she answered eventually. "What exactly are you interested in?"

Cas looked around, trying to look distracted, and Emma was once again taken aback by how good of an actor he was.

"Actually, my wife takes care of this sort of things. If you'll excuse me, I'll go find something to drink."

He let go of Emma's hand and while she knew this was her cue, she felt instantly colder without him in Nemesis' presence, fear creeping up on her. But she kept her composure and turned to her wide-eyed as soon as Cas was out of earshot.

"So, miss—" Nemesis began, but Emma didn't let her finish.

"Help me," she started hyperventilating, letting herself really feel the terror of standing in front of a merciless killer and use it to her goal.

"What?" the goddess blinked.

"Please," Emma begged. "I-I know you're powerful. I've heard who you are. I know the Winchesters."

At hearing the boys' names, Nemesis' eyes flared a little redder than usual and Emma had to keep herself from shrieking.

"They're holding me captive," she blurted out. "Please. That guy is an angel. I've been tortured and healed and tortured again just to come and bait you. You have to help me."

Emma was breathing heavily and she could see Nemesis considering whether to claim she didn't know what she was talking about, or to drop the act. Emma gave it one more shot.

"Please. They're outside, planning to jump you on and take you down, they have a whole ambush going on. You have to help me, or they're going to kill me."

Nemesis pursed her lips and Emma felt her knees weaken and she prayed to whatever was worth it that she'd be able to go through with it. She was so aware of the possibility that the goddess could have stricken her any moment and end her. But eventually, the corners of Nemesis' mouth turned upwards into an attempt of a smile which came out as more of a grimace.

"Take me to them and I might let you live," she ordered icily, and Emma gulped. It was little of a reassurance, but it was more than they'd dared to hope for.

Nemesis followed Emma outside to where she and Cas had settled their ambush point. Cas was sitting with their back turned on them, facing a wall. For a second, Emma worried that the witch might attack him blindly, but she trusted the angel to not be an idiot. As if that was a cue, Cas turned around just then.

Nemesis smiled cruelly. "An angel. What a day. I'd never thought I'd see one. Looks like I'm about to get lucky and get to kill one."

Her eyes started glowing and the energy in the air shifted, and Emma shouted at Cas. "Cas, now!"

Cas didn't waste another minute and he pulled the Colt out and pointed it at Nemesis, but she was faster. With a swipe of her hand, the Colt flew out of Cas' hand and landed under a dumpster, leaving them both unarmed. Okay, this wasn't going the way they'd planned.

"Well, well," Nemesis said in an ice cold voice. "Looks like we have a little rat among us."

_Think, think, think, _Emma prompted herself, as the witch was turning around and focusing on her. She knew she was going to die, so for now, she just wanted to make sure Cas survived, that Nemesis died and that she didn't hurt anybody else. But how? How, how, how?

Nemesis made another swipe motion with her hand and threw Emma into a wall, making her breath catch so badly she felt like she was gonna pass out. _Definitely a collapsed lung, _she told herself and tried hardly to keep herself conscious through the pain long enough to find a solution. It was getting harder and harder to breathe, but the witch turned away from her and headed towards Cas.

"I'll deal with the bugs later," Nemesis mumbled under her breath, smiling pleased and pointing at Cas. "You, on the other hand, I'll take pleasure in killing you right away while she watches, so that she knows it's her fault."

_No, _Emma kept repeating in her head. No, no, no, she couldn't let Cas get killed. No.

Cas extended his arm, trying to use his angel powers on her, but nothing happened. Nemesis laughed like a maniac.

"I'm the goddess of revenge, boy," she spat at him. "You think some little fluffy feathered angel can beat me? Think again!" She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. "Ah, yes. the sweet scent of grudges. It's all around you two. You have no idea how many people hate you. Yes, yes, I could feed on it for years. Too bad I'm too pissed. Killing you'll be a waste of a good revenge meal."

She extended her arm towards Cas like he'd done earlier, and Emma sensed the power that emanated out of her body long before she could release it. The blow was going to kill Cas, and he just stood there, eyes fixated on her. She knew he was trying to tell her to find a way to get out of there before Nemesis would come for her. But it was too late. She couldn't. Nemesis was going to kill Cas.

Her lungs burned and the air felt like poison with every breath she took, it was like her airways were closing in. She let out a wheezing _No_, but it wasn't even powerful enough to hear it herself. She took another excruciatingly painful breath as she saw a grayish light on the tips of Nemesis' fingertips. It was now. She was going to kill Cas _now._

"No!" she managed to yell, and with that last effort, she felt something snap inside her.

It was like the grace inside her had been trapped under different layers with several seals and she'd just broken one of them. Blinding light burst out of her body and she felt like she was floating, her soul mingling with a form of energy that went beyond anything she's ever experienced. Her lungs didn't burn anymore, nothing hurt anymore, but every single fiber of her being was on fire.

A few seconds later, too soon after she'd gotten used to the amount of power she could channel, the fire began to wore off and she felt her soul slowly getting gathered back together. The light was put out and she just stood there, her eyes closed, breathing shakily.

She slowly opened her eyes to take in the scene, too afraid to even consider the possibility that this outburst had been too little too late to save Cas. But he was standing there, right in front of her, wide-eyed, and between the two of them stood something that looked like a statue of Nemesis made of ash. Emma let out a shaky laugh, and the statue fell apart, the ashes spreading at their feet.

Emma stood there frozen for a minute, just blinking, then under the adrenaline of the moment she ran to Cas and threw her hands around his neck.

"Oh my God, Cas, are you okay?" she whispered breathlessly, a few tears threatening to escape her eyes. Cas stood there, unsure what to do, clearly taken aback.

"I'm—I'm fine," he answered eventually, standing there like a Greek sculpture with Emma's hands around him, his head spinning.

She let go of him eventually, still keeping her hands on his shoulders, her eyes glinting with tears.

"I thought she'd kill you, Cas," she blurted out, feeling the beginning of a panic attack creeping up on her. "I thought she'd kill you and that I'd just stand there and watch it because it was all my fault. Oh my God! What the hell just happened?"

"Nothing of it was your fault," Cas reassured her. "This was a task that we both took on. And I'm not quite sure what happened. I thought I was gonna die, too."

"It was something I did, wasn't it?" she whispered and she let her arms drop by her side.

"Most likely," Cas answered. "I think the grace within you is more powerful than we thought, Emma. You just killed an ancient goddess without even trying. We might have a real chance of defeating the angels."

Emma exhaled sharply and pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Cas," she mumbled eventually. "We can't tell the others what happened here."

Cas frowned. "Why not?"

"Because," she bit her lip. "I think we should keep them out of this. If we really can do this, we gotta do this you and me. We can't risk their lives."

"Emma," the angel sighed. "During the whole time I spent with the Winchesters, every trouble they got themselves into was because they kept things from each other. Nothing good ever comes out of lying."

A tear slipped down on Emma's cheek. "I know. Trust me, I do. I hate lying, especially to Mel, who can read through me like looking into a mirror. But this will keep her safe. I won't put her through what you went through tonight. I can't sit around and risk watching her get killed, Cas. We have to do this on our own."

Cas considered it. His experience with the boys and his angel instincts were telling him this was an awfully bad idea. But Emma's eyes told him she really believed in what she said, and these were real concerns of hers. He knew what decision he was supposed to make, based on logic and carefully considering their options. But eventually, he looked down at her and he saw another tear slip and, without even realizing it, he raised his hand and wiped it away gently with his thumb.

"Okay. We'll do this your way."

Sam should've never allowed Melody to leave like that. The whole night had been just too intense and too rushed and there'd been a wave of emotions washing through him and he was so angry and so confused. But Melody was also drunk. He should've never let her leave on that bike.

As soon as he realized the implications of it, he jumped into the car and followed her. It was dark and foggy and the road was so slippery, that he himself was having trouble driving the car; he couldn't even afford thinking of how it must've been for Melody. He was worried out of his mind as he raced as much as the weather conditions allowed him to, but he still hadn't caught up with her. So even though he refused to accept the possibility, he began to look on the sides of the road too, praying he'd be wrong to assume the worst and that Mel had made it safe back to the bunker.

When he didn't see her on either sides of the road either, he started to feel a little relieved and actually considered the probability of her being okay as not so absurd. He let out a breath he didn't even know he was holding.

But that's when he saw it. On the right side of the road lay Melody's motorcycle. His brain shut down for a minute as he hit the brakes, not entirely able to grasp the concept of what was going on, so he just sat there, letting it sink in.

"No," he murmured eventually and jumped out of the car to take in the scene.

A few feet away from the bike, in the grass, with her eyes closed and her clothes damp, he recognized the familiar shape of Melody.

**Hey guys! Surprised? Yeah, me too. I can't believe I managed to post another chapter so soon either. But like I said, this is a part of the story that I really enjoy writing, so I hope you guys liked it as well!**

**Lots of love, xoxo**


	21. Chapter 20: Wildest dreams

"Melody!" Sam cried. "Mel! Mel, wake up!"

He waved his hands nervously around her, afraid to touch her in case she was hurt badly. Eventually, he settled for rubbing her shoulder, praying she'd answer him. He looked around nervously and he was about to go back to his car to get his phone and call an ambulance, when he heard Melody moan a little.

"Mel!" he called her again. "Mel, thank God! Are you hurt?"

She groaned in pain and started to get up, and Sam released a breath he didn't even know he'd been holding. She was alive and moving.

"I'll live," she mumbled in a raspy voice.

"Melody, what were you thinking?" Sam closed his eyes and lay back on his hands, feeling the ground spin around him under the influence of the anger and the terror he'd been feeling in the hurricane of the past half hour. "You could've gotten yourself killed!"

She tried to roll her eyes and get up, but she ended up just gasping in pain.

"Not now, Sam," she asked him. "Just— Just take me to the bunker."

He pursed his lips and agreed that this was the worst time and place for the upcoming fight and she needed to be taken care of asap. So he helped her up and slowly took her to the car then he picked up her motorcycle from the side of the road and loaded it into the trunk of the Impala. When he climbed into the driver's seat, he shot her another glance. Her hair was a muddy mess and her clothes were soaked from the rain, but other than a few cuts and bruises, she looked fine. He wanted to yell at her and take her by the shoulders and shake her and tell her how stupid she'd been and talk some sense into that reckless head of hers. But as he looked at her now, so fragile and vulnerable, he realized how, in those brief moments when he saw her on the ground and he couldn't wake her up, it tore him to pieces. He realized that Melody had left such a mark on his heart, he couldn't stand the thought on not having her in his life. He couldn't lose her. So he swallowed his pride and kept his mouth shut and looked at her one more time, drowning in how grateful he felt that she was fine, and thinking about how his whole life was a puddle and Melody was hurricane.

They rode in thick, heavy silence, filled with Sam's internal struggle and Mel's guilt. She was sobering up and all she wanted to do was go back into some alcohol and forget about everything that had happened tonight. She was beginning to realize how much the whole grace thing and the situation between her and her sister had affected her lately. Having been stripped of her grace had resulted in a black hole inside of her, like the black holes that are caused by the death of a star. Violent, ugly, like a string of light exploding before your eyes and blinding you. But she had learnt to live with it and she was really trying not to let herself be changed by that. The worst thing was, she felt so freaking useless. Emma was the one leading this whole fight, the master puppeteer, the one pulling all the strings, and Mel had to be the one lurking in the shadows, doing her best not to do anything stupid and screw up. Like she had tonight.

She was doing so well. She was starting to get used to the idea that things were like this now and Emma had to bear the responsibility of fighting this battle, even if it killed Melody to let her do this by herself. But then that stupid witch hunt had to come up and once again, her sister had to clean up the mess she had made with the boys. Emma had to put her life at stake again. And that little snap awoke in Melody every single frustration she'd gathered for the past weeks and she needed so badly to get it out of her system. She knew Sam had been right to yell at her at the bar, even though he'd overreacted a little, but now that she was sober, she could see that the anger she'd thrown at him wasn't born from the fact that he had no right to tell her what to do, but from the fact that he was also an object of her frustration. This whole evening had been crazy confusing regarding where the two of them were standing. Sam coming to look for her. Sam finding her drunk and snapping at her. The way she'd snapped at him herself. Jace coming to find her and Sam's possessive stance.

Of course, there was Jace, too. A guy in a bar, she'd thought. A fling. A harmless flirt where she could pretend she was just a girl in a bar. She should've known better. In this line of work, no one was who they claimed to be. And she wondered what exactly was that Jace knew and why, even though her hunter instincts told her otherwise, she felt like she could trust him. Well, she'd have to give him a call and find out.

They eventually got back to the bunker and Sam stopped the engine of the Impala, but none of them got out of the car. They just sat there in silence, each of them pondering what to say. In the end, Mel sighed and decided she was too tired to keep waiting for Sam to snap at her again, so she sighed and headed for the bunker. She heard Sam following her, but she didn't turn around until they reached the library, where she took off her coat and tossed it aside. She decided that, if they were gonna fight, they might as well do this now and for good.

"Just spill the beans, Sam," she turned on her heels and closed her eyes, rubbing her forehead. "I know it's there. Just say it so we can get this over with."

Sam looked at her with his lips pursed, his hands shaking violently even if she didn't see it.

"That was really dumb," he whispered eventually, trying hard to keep his voice under control.

"I know," Mel murmured back.

"And you could've gotten yourself killed."

"I know."

"Out of all the things you've been through, Melody, you could've made your sister lose you over a drunken ride."

"I know, Sam," she raised her voice a little and turned her back on him.

"But do you, Melody? Do you know? 'Cause it seems to me like you're throwing tantrum after tantrum. It's like you don't even get it. Are you even aware of what's going on? Of the extents of this whole situation?"

Melody turned on her heels, her eyes sparking with tears and wet anger.

"Like hell I'm not, Sam. I'm perf—"

"Well, like hell you are," he cut her off, still shaking, unable to hold back anymore. "You had me watch you nearly die. I could've picked up your dead body from that side of the road. What would I have told Emma? Did it ever cross your mind how it would've made me feel?"

A tear escaped Mel's cheek, but she wiped it away angrily, hating the way she was feeling so weak right now. She went straight to him and stopped right in front of him.

"It freaking did. But did it ever cross any of your minds how I feel? Ever?"

Sam was speechless at her sudden outburst and at her words and was unable to come up with an answer, so she just went on.

"Of course it didn't. At the end of the day, it's all about achieving that goal and saving the day. It doesn't matter how many casualties we leave behind. It doesn't even matter if we destroy ourselves in the process! We just have to shut our faces and take one for the team, if it's the last one we take!"

Her cheeks were dry, but she was sobbing. Her whole body was convulsing with anger and Sam wanted nothing more than to put his arms around her and to tell her that everything would be okay. But she was not okay, and she would've known he was lying.

"Is that how you feel?" he asked her weakly. "That we gotta keep going, no matter who we leave behind? Is that why you felt like you needed to go drown yourself in scotch and throw yourself at bartenders and run away from me like that?"

She took a step back and closed her eyes, taking a sharp breath.

"I did it because I needed to breathe, Sam," she admitted. "I needed to remind myself I'm here and I'm alive and that Emma and I will pull this off."

Sam raised his hand, but then he let it drop, thinking about how touching her, even if he longed for it, might not have been the best idea given the circumstances.

"You could've come talk to me," he told her sheepishly. "Maybe I could've helped you. You have to know I'm here for you."

Melody laughed humorlessly.

"You don't understand. You don't understand a thing, Sam. Out of all the people in the world, you're the one I can't stand being around right now the most."

She flew past him, refusing to stick around and face the aftermath of her words. She hadn't meant to tell him that. But all that talk about how he was there for her made her so angry. How could he say that? How could he say that when he must've figured out weeks ago that she was developing feelings for him and had decided to avoid her because of that? Sam was one issue she had yet to figure out, so he had no right to come to her and twist her world around just like that whenever he felt like it. Not now, not ever. So she went outside, in front of the bunker, and sat on the wet grass. It was raining pretty heavily, but she didn't care. She needed Sam Winchester washed away from her system for now. She closed her eyes and let herself get soaked, feeling the cold raindrops against her skin.

Back into the library, Sam still stood dumb-folded, trying to understand Melody's words. _Out of all the people in the world, you're the one I can't stand being around right now the most._ Ouch, he exclaimed to himself. He knew Mel wasn't his biggest fan, he'd figured out as much. And he knew he had feelings of some sort for her, but up until now, as he felt the blow of her words even minutes later, he realized how far gone he was. _Out of all the people in the world, you're the one I can't stand being around right now the most._ Not that admitting it to himself now was going to be helpful in any way whatsoever.

He considered what he was supposed to do. _Out of all the people in the world, you're the one I can't stand being around right now the most._ She clearly didn't want to see him right now, she had made that pretty obvious. And although his heart twitched a little at the thought, he wanted to respect that. But at the same time, after tonight's events and considering she wasn't in her best state of mind, letting her go like that, alone, might not have been the best idea.

After pondering his options for several minutes, he decided that he'd rather have her mad at him than hurt. So he walked out of the library and out of the bunker, just to see Mel sitting on the grass, letting herself get rained on. He let out a breath of relief and sat next to her.

"Sam—" she began to whine when she saw him, but he cut her off.

"No, just hear me out and I'll let you be. I know you don't want me around and I'm sorry if I've been a pain in the ass and that you can't stand me, but I just wanted to make sure you're okay. That's all."

Melody leaned her elbows on her knees and rested her head on her palms.

"Sam. Is that what you got out of my words?"

He looked at her dumb folded, and maybe, if it hadn't been so dark, he would've seen how badly she was blushing right now.

"I said I can't stand being _around _you, Sam, not that I can't stand you."

He blinked. "How's that different?"

She got up and wiped her muddy hands off her jeans angrily.

"For God's sake, Sam," she exploded and she felt like every feeling she'd had for him since day one was now scratching the surface. "It's different because I can't stand around you because it's so freaking confusing! I don't know what to think, or, or, what to feel or how to react or what to say."

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, and when she opened them, he was standing, too, wearing a deep frown between his eyebrows.

"I'm tired, Sam," she whispered. "One minute, you turn your back on me and ignore me for days, next thing I know, you're busting my ass and acting all jealous because I flirted with the bartender. It's confusing, Sam, and I can't keep doing this. I don't need this right now. You have to make up your mind because you're giving me mixed signals here."

She wanted to drift past him again, back inside the bunker, and Sam had no idea what impulse took over him. But as soon as she spoke the words and they registered into his head, in the briefest instant, every piece came together like a puzzle. So before he could over think this and change his mind, he caught her wrist.

Melody didn't turn around. They just stood there for a few seconds, each of them hyper aware of those inches where their skin touched. And then, under the influence of the same impulse, Sam was the first to move. He turned her around with a swift movement and he crashed their bodies together. His big hands went around her slim waist and their lips collided like the hurricane had just met a volcano. Mel let out a small gasp against his lips, but she was quick to react and her hands went to the back of his neck and to his hair and she ran her fingers through it and pulled him closer and closer because she couldn't get enough of him. There was enough passion in their kiss to answer every unasked question from the very beginning. Sam lifted her in his arms to have better access to her lips and he could taste the rain on her mouth and smell the scent of rain in her hair and there was rain everywhere around them, like rain itself wanted to seal them both inside the moment. Their eyes were closed as their lips moved in sync, but their hands knew each other by heart. And when they broke the kiss, gasping for air, the sound of her heavy breathing against the thunderstorm soundtrack became Sam's favorite melody.

"How's that for a mixed signal?" he smiled against her lips, his hands in her hair and her fingers clinging to the collar of his shirt; they were eye to eye, noses touching and their shallow breaths meeting halfway, like they were trying to inhale each other.

Mel parted her lips to say something back, but she lost track of what she wanted to say when he rested his forehead against hers.

"Don't," he told her before she could even think about talking again. "All we did so far was talk. Let's not talk. This is so much better."

How could she have not agreed, with his lips so close to hers, when she could still feel his taste on her mouth? How, when all she could think about was how his eyes resembled a rainforest on fire? She couldn't. So she just closed her eyes and nodded, tightening her grip on him. He didn't hesitate the littlest bit before holding her tighter, too, and placing another quick, and gentle this time, kiss on her lips.

"Let's go inside," he suggested. "You're freezing."

She nodded again, feeling a little retarded at this point. Maybe not retarded, but definitely dizzy and, weirdly enough, while she was even more confused than before, she had never been more awake and had never seen things clearer.

So did Sam. This could easily have been the best decision he'd taken in a very long time. The best surrender to an impulse. He smiled to himself as he took Melody's hand and led her inside the bunker, because he couldn't just stop touching her now. His arms ached to hold her again and never let her out of his sight. Her, he couldn't lose. Not now, not ever, he promised himself.

They walked along the hallway in silence, the light kind. This time, they didn't need words to voice those feelings floating around them. They felt them in those little touches, in the glimpses they kept stealing of each other, in half smiles and flushed cheeks. Sam stopped in front of Melody's room.

"Wait here," he told her and let go of her hand, disappearing around the corner.

He returned a few seconds later with a towel. Melody couldn't help the wide smile that was spreading over her lips and corked an eyebrow at him. He just shrugged and started running the towel gently through her blonde locks, wiping away the heavy drops falling from their ends. Melody closed her eyes and allowed herself to get lost in the feeling. When Sam was done with her hair, he focused on softly running the towel across her forehead, her temples, her cheekbones and her chin, strategically missing her lips and grinning in the process. Then he followed the route down to her neck, her arms and slowly down to each finger.

Before he could let his arm drop, Melody caught his wrists and took the towel.

"My turn," she half smiled up at him.

While Sam's eyes had traveled all over her body along with his hands as he worked his way with the cloth, taking his time to memorize her, Melody couldn't look away from his eyes. So their gazes locked as she wiped his soft hair and his face, and that's all she could really do since she was so captured in his whole presence. But he didn't seem to notice either.

He took the towel back and threw it on his shoulder, keeping a small smile on her lips, then he took her hands gently in his. He bent down and closed the distance between them and Mel's breath caught in her throat as she anticipated the next kiss. But he didn't kiss her. Not on her lips, anyway. Instead, he brushed his lips against his cheek so soft she barely felt it, then placed another small kiss on her other cheek, then on the corner of her mouth, so close to her lips it physically pained her, then he pulled away, leaving her breathing heavily, her eyes closed. Her eyelids fluttered open and she saw him looking at her so intensely she blushed violently under the weight of his gaze.

"Good night, Melody," he whispered and he tucked a strand of hair beneath her ear.

"G-Good night," she muttered back.

She could've sworn she heard him give a little chuckle as he darted past her, but she couldn't be sure. He closed the door of her room behind him, his thumb instantly flying to his lips to hold on to that memory, to remind himself that this was real. It was real. He laughed shakily and wondered how on earth he would be able to sleep tonight.

Melody made the same small gesture that Sam had done on the other side of the door, touching her lips to find them still a little swollen from the intense kiss they'd shared outside. But before her mind had enough time to process everything that had happened and to start freaking out like a teenage girl, her phone rang, her Led Zeppelin's "Heartbreaker" ringtone waking her up a little.

She pulled out her phone and saw that it was an unknown caller ID. She wasn't lucid enough to question that little piece of information and decided to answer.

"H-hello?"

"Hi. Melody?" There was a male voice on the other line.

"Um, y-yeah," she mumbled. "Who's asking?"

"It's me. Jace."

**I don't feel like there should be any side notes here, so, enjoy!**


	22. Chapter 21: Moon dance

Half an hour after Dean heard Sam's bedroom door close, he realized he wasn't going to get any sleep tonight. He knew Cas and Emma had pulled it off, Cas had called to let him know that he was going to cover some tracks in the town and that Emma was on her way to the bunker, but for some reason, Dean knew he wasn't going to rest until he saw her round and kicking with his two goddamn eyes.

He picked up a beer from the kitchen, then went outside and greeted his baby. The night air smelled like storm and the Impala was wet and shiny. He leaned on the trunk and stared into the distance for God knows how long before he heard a car getting closer. His muscles tensed in anticipation. He knew it must have been Emma, but his hunter instincts couldn't help but kick in. Eventually, from beneath the line of the horizon appeared Cas' car and Dean let out a breath of relief.

Emma parked the car in front of him and he found himself breathing heavily. He'd really been worried about her. He really, but really didn't want anything to happen to her. At this point, he'd come to not be able to picture not having her around. And as she got out of the car and started walking towards him, his breath caught in his throat and let out a small gap that would've been embarrassing if she'd heard, but damn, was she beautiful.

_Son of a bitch_, he muttered to himself before she was close enough to hear it.

"Hey, there, stranger," she smiled a little at him as she leaned next to him on the trunk of the Impala.

"Hey," he smiled back at her. Emma had this thing about her, she made him smile just with being there; her warm, green, innocent eyes held something in them that brought some stuff scratching the surface that Dean had thought was long gone.

"Pretty late to be drinking, isn't it?" she mocked, but swiped the beer from his hand and took a sip herself before returning it to him.

"Doesn't seem to be a problem for you," he teased her back and she laughed, wrapping her arms around herself.

Dean realized that he'd been so caught in the way that sexy black dress embraced her curves, that it hadn't even occurred to him her ass must've been freezing.

"'S a bit chilly, ain't it?" he asked her dumbly, before shrugging off his leather jacket and handing it to her with an awkward motion, looking down at their feet the whole time. Emma chuckled a little at how troubled he seemed.

"Dean, what are you doing?" she asked him, still smiling, and eyeing the jacket curiously.

"You're cold," he stated, and Emma waited for him to elaborate, but he didn't. Was this even the same guy who could get women to _beg_ for him to hook up with them? The guy who could make a woman pass out just by looking at her with those intense green eyes? Was this Dean Winchester stammering in front of her?

"I'm fine, Dean," she assured him, and he rolled his eyes.

"Just take the jacket, woman," he snapped a little, exasperated, and Emma sighed and took the jacket from him.

She slipped it over her shoulders and put her arms through the long sleeves. It was way too big and baggy on her body, but it smelled like beer and whisky and that sort of rusty and reassuring smell of the inside of the Impala and like Dean. She held back from taking a deep breath into the leather, but then reminded herself that she had to restrain from it and be an adult about this. They were hunting buddies. Besides, she probably looked ridiculous in this ginormous thing.

On the other hand, ridiculous was the last word Dean could've used to describe her. He'd seen women wearing his shirts as trophies in the mornings after his hook-ups plenty of times. That was sorta ridiculous. But his jacket on this girl… Man. It was insane. She could've practically swam in it, and needless to say, there was a dress that showed some impressing amount of skin under the leather. But like this, with the jacket on, she looked hotter than ever. Maybe it was because… Screw that, he had no idea why. She was tiny and the jacket was big and she was wearing a cocktail dress and the jacket was so not fitting for that and she was wearing high heels and fancy perfume and his jacket smelled like his cheap scotch. But it suited her so damn well. It looked better on her than it ever had on him.

He cleared his throat to get rid of the small tension that was growing between them, then took another sip of his beer.

"So, how'd it go?" he asked her eventually.

Emma tugged the jacket closer to her. It really was chilly.

"I thought Cas called to give you a full report."

"He did," Dean admitted. "He told me you pulled some freaky mojo out there."

Emma sighed. "I did. And it really was freaky. I mean, I felt so empowered at the time, you know? But then as I thought it through, I realized it scares the hell out of me."

She didn't know why she was telling Dean all this. She hadn't meant to. But he was here and she had to get it out of her system and he had this crazy intense look in his eyes and, all directed at her, so she felt like trusting him was the only reasonable choice.

"You'll be fine, Emma," he told her in a deep voice that made her shiver a little. "You've got the guts to do this, and you'll pull this off, whatever's thrown at ya. Hell, my brother jumped into a cage with the devil himself, and if you're his copycat, you can do this, too."

He smiled and Emma laughed a little.

"Gee thanks," she joked. "And one of these days, I think I'm gonna want to hear these stories of yours, cause it's getting confusing."

He nodded and they chuckled a little more, then Emma grew suddenly quiet. She appreciated that Dean didn't push her, though. He let her travel through her mind and back in silence, waiting for her to speak, which was only a few seconds later.

"I just miss when things were simple," she stated.

"Don't we all," Dean muttered, and his instinct was to reach for her hand that was lying on the trunk of the Impala, right next to his, but he fought back, not wanting to scare her off with some feelings he couldn't really figure out himself. Stuff he hadn't felt since Lisa. So he preferred to keep his hands to himself.

"We really do," Emma smiled sadly. "But there was this one moment, when I was there, when I wished so badly that I wasn't hunting an ancient witch. I wanted to just be a girl on a party, chatting with normal people, with a guy who'd ask me to dance."

She laughed to herself at how silly and girly this all sounded. She was like a whiny 14-year old teenager. But Dean understood this urge of hers and he wanted to tell her that she'd get out once this was all over and that she'd have her apple pie life and all, but he knew there was no getting out of it alive, and he couldn't lie to her. So before he could talk himself out of it again, he gave in to the instinct this time and settled to making it better with the one thing he could do something about.

Emma was still wrapped in her thoughts when he straightened up and stood in front of her, a few steps away, one hand extended towards her.

"What are you doing?" she asked again, frowning at him.

Dean sighed like he was being forced to do something he so badly didn't want to.

"I'm the guy who's asking you to dance," he rephrased her wish, still wearing that mortified look on his face.

"What?"

"I said—"

"Oh, I heard what you said, all right," Emma snickered in shock. "But, Dean, you don't have to do this."

He huffed. "Sure I do. C'mere before I change my mind."

Emma eyes his hand skeptically, like he was about to pull some really bad prank on her and trip her or electrocute her or something.

"Dean, there isn't even any music."

He rolled his eyes. "We'll improvise."

She was still suspicious about it, but she still took his hand reluctantly. Then it all became a haze. He pulled her in and let his hand sneak under the jacket to rest on her waist and cursed himself for doing so, because he'd forgotten her dress had a low back and his fingers met skin. Emma drew in a quick embarrassing breath that she hoped he hadn't heard when she felt his hand on the small of her back.

For a few seconds, they just stood there awkwardly, none of them moving, just staring blankly anywhere but at each other. Eventually, Dean started to move his feet clumsily, rolling her body with his. Emma was about to state again how ridiculous dancing to no music whatsoever was, but then he surprised her by starting to hum something under his breath.

_Well, it's a marvelous night for a Moondance, _

_With the stars up above in your eyes, _

_A fantabulous night to make romance, _

_'Neath the cover of October skies..._

He was completely out of tune and his voice was groggy and raspy and sexy, but the man was physically unable to sing. But nothing mattered in the very least as the lyrics rolled off his lips. Emma moved around with her eyes wide and her mouth a little open in shock. This couldn't be.

"No way," she whispered. "You watched August Rush."

He didn't answer, just kept spinning her around and humming softly to the tunes of the harmonica in the song. Turned out that, while he couldn't really sing, he was an excellent dancer. Emma was insanely clumsy, but he kept her steady on her feet, one arm safely circling her waist and keeping her dangerously close to his muscular body.

To Dean, this must've been truly the craziest thing he'd ever done. He didn't dance at all, as a general rule. He didn't watch chick-flicks. He knew he was a terrible singer, so he didn't sing either. And yet for her, he'd have done absolutely anything. He didn't mind any of those because they'd got him here, with her locked in his arms, the rebel strands of her hair softly brushing his cheek. He became so painfully aware of their proximity.

At some point, he stopped singing. They were just spinning with no direction, with no soundtrack other than their shallow breaths. No words were exchanged now. Emma wanted to make some smart-ass comment about him watching August Rush. Dean wanted to tease her about her lack of balance on her feet. But the very second when her head shifted a little and they ended up face to face, nothing else existed other than the two of them.

They stopped spinning. They moved awkwardly, from one feet to the other, in some attempt of lazy dance. Big calloused fingers on Emma's bare back. Small hand gripping Dean's shoulder than burned him through his thin flannel shirt. Noses touching. Her loose strands of hair tickling his skin. They were so close. It would only have taken one inch to close that distance and crash their lips together.

They closed their eyes, not able to take the pressure of the gaze-locking anymore. There was nothing in each other's eyes, no shade, no shadow, no spot that they didn't know by heart. Emma breathed in, trying to grasp Dean's aura. Even with her eyes closed, she could tell it was bright, clear-sky blue, shining bright, surrounding her and drowning him into an electrifying flood. Dean let go of the hand that he was holding and rose it to gently cup her cheek. His thumb brushed across her jaw line and his breath caught in her throat. He was going to kiss her. He could precisely name the second in which he took that decision. He wanted this so badly, he was so desperate for it, for her, for the longing of freezing this moment in time, this small anticipation before the kiss, before his lips touched hers. He leaned in closer and closer and he could've sworn his heart had never beaten harder. He heard her gasp a little and their lips brushed so softly. He didn't dare go any further. He stayed there, with his lips slowly hovering about hers, waiting for her to respond in any sort of way or for the guts he needed to properly seal the kiss.

And Emma couldn't breathe. Her brain was a maze and her stomach was a battlefield. And her lips were like a blank canvas and Dean's were the paintbrush, he was the artist. Everything about it was distracting and frustrating and confusing and dizzying. His fingers moving up and down on her back. His warm breath on her face. His thumb tracing lines on her jaw. His eyelashes tickling her face. The feeling of his strong chest beneath her right palm. The pulling of gravity as she leaned into his shoulder with her left arm. But more than anything, the way his lips waited, suspended over hers. They couldn't move. Had they been given a choice whatsoever, they would've chosen to stay into this very instant, here and now. Without remembering, without thinking, without facing the aftermath.

Dean took in a shaky breath and Emma's knees went weak. Dear Lord. He kept waiting for her, his lips brushing so softly against hers, like a caress. It was so clear he wasn't going to move. He didn't dare to. She had to do something or, so help her God, she would go mad here and now. Every fiber in her body told her to grab his collar and kiss the hell out of him, give in to what her instinct had been yelling at her for weeks now, let herself drown into Dean Winchester because he was a waterfall and her senses were on fire.

"Cas asked me out," she blurted out against his lips, making both their mouths vibrate against each other, the feeling of it sending chills to her spine.

Dean's eyes snapped open. "What?" he mumbled, moving a little away.

Emma gulped. She had no idea what had made her say that. What exactly could've given her the sense of doing the right thing just when she was about to kiss Dean Winchester. She had no idea how exactly had her brain made the decision of thinking about Cas in that exact same instant.

"C-Cas," she repeated, looking down, unable to see his eyes right now. "He asked me out tonight."

Dean let his hand drop and Emma heard the surprise in his voice.

"Cas? As in, the angel Castiel? He actually _asked you out_?"

"I-I don't know, I guess," she replied pathetically.

"You don't know," he repeated. "You guess. Well, did he?"

"In his weird, tactless way. I told him we'd talk about it when we got back."

Dean unwrapped his arm from around Emma's waist and slowly took a step back, chuckling humorlessly. "Cas, you son of a bitch."

As he backed away, Emma started missing his body against hers so badly. She realized they fit together like puzzle pieces. Although she was glad she was doing the right thing with Cas, she cursed herself for the moment in which she'd chosen to bring it up.

"Dean—" she began to say, but he cut her off just as she started talking.

"I think you should say yes," he blurted out, and Emma just blinked.

"What?"

"I think you should go out with Cas."

"Wh-what? Dean—"

"Cas really cares about you. And I saw that you two have some sort of connection. So I think you should give the guy a shot."

Emma looked at him dumb folded. How could he go from one extreme to the other so fast? The guy she'd almost kissed was really suggesting that she went out with another guy? With his best friend? What kind of game was he playing? She took a step back herself and while only seconds earlier they couldn't come up with new ways to close the space between them, now they couldn't put enough distance between them. Emma felt the passion being replaced with anger.

"Fine," she spat. "Maybe I will."

"You do that," Dean told her sadly, although she was too blinded by rage to see the look of disappointment in his eyes. She was disappointed herself. She had expected things to go so differently. She had thought they really admitted that they had something.

"I will," she replied. "Now let's get inside, I'm freezing."

She shrugged off his jacket and handed it back to him without looking him in the eyes. She was frustrated, but he didn't need to do that. After Dean took the jacket from her, she flew past him inside the bunker, praying hard he couldn't see how hurt she was.

He didn't. He couldn't. He didn't see at all. He didn't feel anything anymore. Everything he'd felt minutes ago, gone. The passion, gone. The chills, gone. The intensity, gone. Now there was just a hole. He was seeing red. He'd flown so high to hit the ground so hard. He was losing the girl he cared about to Cas. And the worst part is, he couldn't even get angry about it, because if anyone deserved Emma, it clearly wasn't him. It was Cas. And since Emma deserved the best herself, it still wasn't him. It was also Cas. Cas. Bright red into the periphery of his view. His blood boiling in his veins, his heart pumping. The Mark calling to him.

But he refused to give in to the calling. Instead, he welcomed the sorrow and the bitterness like they were his old friends and closed his eyes, taking deep breaths to steady his mood. A few minutes later, he opened his eyes and followed Emma inside the bunker, trying so hard not to think about had badly the universe kept screwing him over.


	23. Chapter 22: Run to you

Melody woke up the following morning in a complete haze. Her head was a mess and her heart felt as if it suddenly had a thousand more pieces learning how to beat and they were all just a bunch of annoying butterflies spreading through her whole body.

She smiled. Sam. All these weeks of endless wondering. He'd kissed her. Oh dear Lord, how he'd kissed her. She was so damn anxious about going out there and facing him after the whole moment they'd shared. She was scared of screwing things up just now when they'd finally found some common ground.

And then again, there was also this teeny tiny giant secret she had to keep all to herself for now and she felt so bad for having to lie to all of them. Jace.

_Melody stood there in the middle of the room, caught between the dizziness still flooding her after the moment with Sam and the shock of having Jace on the other side of the line. She was still processing. Both of them._

"_J-Jace?" she stammered._

"_Yeah," he said, and she could hear a small smile in his voice. "The bartender, remember?"_

"_I know which Jace, dumbass," she snapped. "B-but… How'd you get my number?"_

_After a minute of silence, Jace answered, still smiling. "You'd be surprised how easy it is to snatch drunken chicks' numbers."_

"_I wasn't that—" she began to argue, but then she realized this was so far from the point. "Whatever. You've got some serious explaining to do."_

_Jace sighed. "I know. That's why I'm calling. I figured it couldn't wait until you called me. Melody, there's some serious stuff going on and I really think you need my help."_

"_Yeah, you mentioned that," Mel hissed sarcastically in the phone. "But I still don't understand how on earth you'd know about me and my sister, or about the schemes we're pulling or especially why the hell we'd need your help. Who the hell are you anyway?"_

"_I promise I'll explain anything," he tried to reason with her. "That's why we need to meet up asap. We're kinda running low on time. Can you meet me tomorrow?"_

_Melody stayed silent for a few seconds, pondering her options. She had no reason whatsoever to believe him. For all she knew, this guy could be a demon or working with the angels or was involved into some wicked strategy to get to them. But also, there was the possibility that he was telling the truth and that he was really able to help them. Was she willing to take a chance? What were the odds? He could've been telling the truth, and that was a win-win situation, or he could've been lying, and Mel was confident enough that she was able to take him down if this was the case. So maybe she was just crazy desperate to do something to help with the whole angel situation, but she sighed and gave in to her hunch._

"_Fine," she spat. "I'll see you tomorrow."_

_Jace gave her an address, a remote alley behind a bar, which sent some chills down Mel's spine in apprehension, but she kept quiet and stuck to her plan._

"_And, Melody," he added before hanging up. "I know this is a lot to ask, but please don't tell anyone about this. This whole thing is already pretty risky for me. I just need you to hear me out for now."_

_All the signs gave her a really bad feeling, but she still agreed to it. Emma and the boys would've talked her out of it and this was a chance she really wanted to take. There was no way in hell she was sitting this one out._

Looking back through the events of last nights, Melody wondered if she'd really made the right call to meet up with Jace. This could turn up really dangerous. But then she shook her head when she realized that she really, really wanted to do something more that standing there, crossed-arms, waiting for the grown-ups to handle the situation. Sure, she was a little uncomfortable with keeping stuff from them, but she'd just have to go see Jace, which was bound to happen around noon, and try as much as possible to avoid the others until she figured out what his deal was. This way, she wouldn't give herself the chance to feel guilty about it. Yup, cards dealt.

She checked her watch. It was way too early for any decent human being, but the rush she felt about the whole thing with Sam and the anxiety for the Jace business had barely let her get any sleep. She decided to go raid the kitchen and get a snack before the others got a chance to wake up, and then she'd find a way to sneak out during midday. Also, she decided she wasn't allowed to think about Sam until she figured out the thing with Jace and they'd get a proper chance to talk things through.

She walked out of her room through the hallway on her tiptoes, careful not to wake anyone up. She made her way to the kitchen safely, but then, because somehow the universe held a big-time grudge against her, she bumped straight into Sam's toned chest.

"Shit," she hissed under her breath as she looked up at him.

Sam gasped a little in surprise as he felt Mel's small figure run into him. He caught her elbows to keep her steady on her feet, and when she looked up at him with a shy smile playing on her lips, like a kid being caught stealing cookies, he absolutely lost his shit.

"Mel," he breathed, suddenly his palms becoming so aware of the touch of her soft skin. And yesterday night kept playing over and over in his head so that he could not look anywhere else but at her full lips.

"S-Sam," she babbled, her hands resting absent-mindedly on his forearms when he didn't let go of her right away. "Why are you up so early?"

He finally released his hold on her and took an awkward step back, chuckling nervously. "I couldn't sleep, so I was about to go for a run."

She stumbled through her thoughts for a few seconds when he admitted he hadn't been able to sleep either, because of what she assumed was the same reason as hers. But Sam's voice brought her back to earth.

"What about you?"

"Umm," she stuttered. "I couldn't get that much sleep either."

She blushed deeply as she said the words and averted her gaze. So much for avoiding him until they could talk things out. She hadn't even figured out what she'd say to him. What the hell was she supposed to say anyway?

"W-we," she took a deep breath and tried to pull herself together, clearing her voice. "We should probably t-talk—"

"We really shouldn't," he smiled down at her, and Mel's caught in her throat when she realized this was the first genuine smile she'd ever seen on Sam's face. "We don't have to talk about it. I meant what I said, Melody. Talking is what got us into some pretty messy circle back there. I'd say we're done talking about it."

Melody's blush intensified to some extents she was unaware she could achieve and she looked up at him between her lashes, all flirty and playful.

"Then what do you suggest we do?" she asked him, biting her lip.

She saw him gulp a little, and then he reached out and brushed a strand of her hair away from her face with the softest motion she'd ever witnessed.

"That's the thing. I don't suggest that we do anything. We let things happen and see where they go."

His knuckles rested a little on her cheek before he removed his hand, and her skin where he'd touched her tingled a little.

"Sounds like a plan," she agreed, smiling widely. "For now."

"For now," Sam looked at her playfully, "How about you join me for that morning jog, then?"

Melody had to restrain herself from wrinkling her nose when she heard about jogging and was about to turn him down. But then she saw his puppy eyes and the way the corners of his mouth pulled back just so slightly to form a small half-smile and she knew right there she was falling so hard for him. Undeniably.

"Sure," she sighed eventually, giving in to him helplessly. "Let me just get changed."

Sam nodded and she saw him reach out a little, almost as if he wanted to touch her but changed his mind in the last minute. Well, he did. He wasn't entirely sure how to act around her now. He wanted nothing more than to give in to that feeling he'd been overwhelmed by last night, but he was so afraid of screwing it all up. This was the most alive he'd felt in ages. Hell, since Jess. Jess had been the first girl to settle him, to keep him together, and she'd been the love of his life. But damn, Melody Bennett ripped him apart and tore him to tiny pieces that she played like her very own set of strings. He loved that about her. She awoke his senses like no one else ever had. He wanted so badly to hold on to this feeling that he didn't want to take any chances. Besides, he was pretty sure that taking things slow like he'd suggested didn't by any means imply slowing Mel down. The girl was gasoline and Sam's head was on fire right now.

Mel cringed a little when she saw him flinch, but didn't touch her. She longed for him to touch her again. But then she reminded herself they were supposed to take it easy. Not rush into things. So she offered him one last smile before disappearing around the corner.

She went into her room and changed into some shorts and a loose T-shirt, pulling her hair up in a high pony tail. She just hoped she could hold her tongue and keep her composure about the whole thing with Jace. She shook her head and tried to push all the guilt into the back of her head, keen on refusing to let it affect her jog with Sam. _Jog. Ugh. _

"Ready?" Sam asked her when she came out of her room, finding him in the hallway. He was wearing training pants and a shirt that clung to his body in ways that made her eyes scan the merchandise a little. Was it really mandatory for him to be this hot? She smiled nervously.

"Ready as ever," she replied, and they went outside the bunker.

It was nice that the silence wasn't as heavy as before. It was still a little tense, a little off, but they had gotten it out of their system. Each of them now knew there was something here, and both were willing to give it a go, however that might have turned out to work out. And Melody realized that Sam was actually pretty right. They didn't really need words. Most of the sentences they'd addressed each other since they'd met had been nothing but mask filters to cover some tension that soon turned into stuff they didn't have the guts to voice or to even admit to themselves. They were finally on the same page.

"Come on," Sam prompted as soon as they were out, and they soon set a steady pace.

They ran side by side and Mel had to bit her lip against her snickering when she saw Sam so focused. He was always so intense in everything he did and seeing as he had this freaking amazing body, he clearly enjoyed exercising. As for herself, she much rather enjoyed exorcising.

After a few minutes of running at a decent pace, Mel's breath already began to catch and her heart was speeding. Sam, however, didn't seem to have any problem with it, and he was already picking up a faster pace, that Melody had to stop for a second to catch her breath. She stopped and leaned forward, resting her hands on her knees and panting like crazy.

"Hey, you okay?" Sam stopped and turned to her.

She just gave him a thumbs-up, without raising her gaze, still breathing heavily.

"Peachy," she wheezed, and she heard Sam chuckle under his breath.

"You know," he started, and she could hear the smile in his voice. "You didn't have to come along. We can go back if you wanna."

And wasting away this morning, with him? Nuh-uh. Not an option. These moments when things were just so easy, so not rushed at all, were so rare between them, that Melody preferred to cough her lungs out rather than give it up. It didn't matter, because she was here with him and he wanted to do this and she wanted to be with him now. It was a simple equation, even with her bad math.

"Nah, I'm good," she tried to catch her breath then she jumped up and down a little to push her muscles, trying to show as much enthusiasm as she was capable of. "Let's go, let's go."

Sam laughed, but complied. They started running again and Melody could've sworn she'd never worked her body like this before. Hell, besides their occasional hunting jobs, the most exercising she'd done was going out to buy pie. A few minutes later, she stopped again to catch her breath, and she could hear Sam fighting laughter.

"You sure you okay?" he mumbled between snickers.

"Yeah," she panted. "Yeah. Just gimme. Just. Ugh. Just gimme a minute."

He let her steady her breathing and she looked at him with some puppy eyes that she hoped were as effective as his, hoping he'd suggest again going back. Yup, spending time with him wasn't really going the way she'd planned. But instead of falling for her puppy eyes, Sam gave another laugh and took both her hands in his, pulling her forward.

"Come on," he prompted then kissed the back of her palm, still pulling her with him, which made Mel blush her face off and forget any point she intended to make. "Let's go, don't chicken out on me. You were doing great. Keep up, keep up."

His enthusiasm and cheerfulness rubbed off on her and even if her lungs were burning, she found herself following him and launching herself into a new lap, forcing her feet to function and her brain to calm its shit. It was like her general mood around Sam was strictly dizzy today.

But this time, before even getting a chance to actually run, while her eyes were so glued on Sam, her feet decided to desynchronize and she stumbled upon herself, losing her balance. She didn't even get to react in any way whatsoever, hitting the ground like a bag of potatoes and a loud thump. Now that was awkward.

"Jesus Christ, are you okay?" Sam rushed to her side, helping her sit up.

"Ouch," was all she could mutter, rubbing her forehead. Her knees and elbows hurt like crap and she was pretty sure she'd sprained her ankle.

With the corner of her eye, she saw Sam's shoulders moving up and down as he helped her up. She glared at him when she realized he was trying to hide his laughter.

"It's not funny," she spat at him.

He cleared his voice, but he still couldn't wipe that grin off his face.

"No, of course not," he told her and tried to keep his composure, but when he saw her so angry with her hair all ruffled like that and the small frown on her face, he remembered her just disappearing out of his sight so suddenly and then seeing her on the ground and he just cracked, snickering uncontrollably.

"Come on, it was kinda funny," he defended himself when Melody resumed her glaring and punched him in the shoulder. "Maybe we _should_ head back now."

Emma woke up early and she found herself alone in the library, enjoying the morning silence, although not for long. She'd just gotten a cup of coffee and sat down at the table when Dean walked in with his sleepy face and bed hair and puffy eyes, making her heart skip a little beat.

For a brief moment, she actually forgot. She forgot about yesterday's night and about that amazing energy exchange that had been going on between them and about that almost kiss and about what would have happened, had she kept her mouth shut. She forgot that she hadn't been able to sleep for hours and that she had tossed and turned an awful lot before finally drifting off because of how hard her heart was racing. But when he walked in and she saw that he looked like he hadn't rested that well himself, every little feeling came rushing back in and she found herself unable to look him in the eye.

Not that Dean was making that much progress about it. Emma had guessed right, because he hadn't been able to get one minute of sleep until the crack of daylight. He kept thinking things over and over and over. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw that black dress. He saw the way his jacket clung to her tiny body. He felt her pressed against him. He heard her say she had a date with Cas, of all people. Then he saw red again.

"Morning," he mumbled as he sat in front of her, rubbing his eyes and avoiding her gaze. "How'd you sleep?"

"Pretty good," she lied, fidgeting and pulling at her sleeves. "I was exhausted from the hunt."

"Good," he replied. "I'm glad. That—That you slept well, not that you were exhausted."

Emma chuckled a little and dropped her gaze. She tried to feel his aura, but then she thought again. Who knew what she might see? He might hate her. He might share her confused feelings. Either way, she wasn't ready to know. She owed Cas a chance. Besides, it didn't look as if any of them had any intention to talk about had happened last night, so they might as well forget about it before they let it ruin their friendship and create unnecessary tension.

"So," Dean broke the silence a few minutes of uncomfortable silence later. "Did you see our clones?"

Emma rolled her eyes and smiled a little. "Mel wasn't in her room. I don't know about Sam."

Dean shrugged, and in that exact second, the bunker door burst open and Sam walked in, a groaning Melody clinging to his arm, while he was giggling uncontrollably.

"Dear God, what happened?" Emma exclaimed, looking at them confused.

Melody punched Sam in the arm, which just made him laugh even harder, unable to pull himself together and tell the story.

"I fell," Melody declared simply, then pursed her lips in a tight line and closed her eyes, rubbing her side.

"Y-You fell?" Dean raised her eyebrows. "How?"

"We went jogging," Sam managed to mutter between snickers. "We were jogging and she tripped and fell right in front of me. Just like that."

Emma and Dean chuckled a little, too, not as much at the story as at the faces Melody made at Sam.

"C'mere, let's get you to your room," Sam took Mel's hand, and their siblings just watched dumb folded as her anger slowly dissipated and was replaced with a goofy smile.

Sam led Melody out of the library to her room, and Emma just sat there, with her eyebrows raised, an incredulous look glued to her face that Dean noticed.

"What?" he asked her, curious.

Emma turned to him, shaking her head like she was trying to decipher the world's greatest ancient mystery.

"Dude," she mumbled, her eyebrows still raised. "Melody doesn't do jogging. Ever."

**Ta-dam! Hope you liked it, pals! Well, guys, lemme just tell you that a few days ago, after my last update, WE GOT 455 VIEWS IN ONE DAY! Thank you so much for following this story, I'm never gonna get tired of saying that, and thank you so, so much for all of your feedback, it makes me so damn happy! **

**Well, anyway, I'm so excited about the story, that I even started a Tumblr blog that's dedicated to it and I started photoshoping all kinds of pictures and making gifs for Sam/Mel and Dean/Emma, so you're welcome to pay a visit to .com and check them out!**

**Also (long A.N., sorry), I have this teeny tiny request. My sister, who you all may know as the person who persuaded me to write this story and keeps pushing me week after week to update, my 15-year old sister has gotten into writing. Her story is very very sweet and I'd love it if you guys gave her some feedback. It's not fanfiction, it's free writing, but it's really good. It's called Autumn Fires, the main character is also called Melody, and you can find it here: s/3247877/1/Autumn-Fires-Touch-of-time-Melody-Hathaway **

**Summary: **If you are looking for a great,tragic love story then don't read this one, because it's not tragic at all. This story has a significant simplicity, it's effortlessly beautiful, with no need for a shakespearean tragedy, or big plot twists. You may call it ordinary, but it's my love story ,of how the fire within me was lit. The story of the roller-coaster called life-M.H

**Thanks a lot, guys! See you soon with a new chapter! Love you all, xoxo. **


	24. Chapter 23: Rusty halo

Emma heard a knock on her door. Her muscles tensed a little, anticipating the possibility of it being Dean, wanting to talk about last night. And she really didn't want to think about last night.

She stood up and made her way to the door, opened it and her eyes widened a little.

"Cas!"

"Hello, Emma," the angel smiled at her warmly, and she felt the corners of her mouth curving into a smile involuntarily, in response.

"Come on in," she stepped away for him to enter her room then she closed the door behind him. "How'd it go?"

Cas sighed and he opened and closed his mouth a few times and Emma knew he was really troubled, struggling with this whole thing; what she'd asked him to do went against himself and he was really having an inner battle here.

"I know, Cas," she sighed, closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead. "I know you disagree. Trust me, I don't like this either. But if it weren't the only way, I wouldn't even dream of asking you this. Cas, I can't drag them into this mess."

"You're right," Cas told her "But I still believe it's a crazy idea. Are you entirely sure you're willing to expose yourself to this risk?"

"Absolutely," Emma answered without giving it a second thought. "Now tell me. Did you set everything up?"

Emma felt the adrenaline pumping in her veins. Right before Cas took off after their hunt, she had decided that she couldn't wait anymore. Her powers burned inside her like a supernova, demanding to be put at use, and there was also the fact that she was tired of living in constant fear, tired of always having to look over her shoulder, tired of not being able to stop running. She needed to catch her breath once and for all. Cas had suggested locking the angels up in Heaven. And she had a few ideas that she had crafted into a plan as for how to do it. Cas wasn't too happy with that plan of hers, but as much as it cost her, it was still the only way, just like she told him. There was too much at stake.

"Not yet," the angel answered her question. "It's still a very complex picture. There are still a lot of details to bring in our favor."

Emma nodded. She just hoped it worked. She had bet all her money on this. She couldn't fail.

"Don't worry," she took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down, and she offered him a tentative smile, Dean's words from last night playing over and over in her head. "All things in due time. I'm sure we'll pull this off."

Cas looked so genuinely worried, Emma actually felt bad for getting him involved into this mess. Not that she had too much of a choice. He looked around the room, sighing.

"I just hope you're right," he told her, resting his clear blue eyes on her.

_Cas really cares about you. You two have some sort of connection. So I think you should give the guy a shot._

Screw Dean Winchester. He was right. Cas was a good guy and he really cared about her, so he'd earned himself a shot. So whatever thing she might have thought she had with Dean could be set aside for now. She had enough to worry about as it was, without constantly wondering what had gotten into him. Screw Dean Winchester.

"I hope I'm right, too," she joked, and fixated her gaze on him. "But let's not think about this just yet. Let's enjoy not knowing for a while. Especially since I believe we have an appointment."

She beamed at him, waiting for him to catch the hint, but Cas just frowned and tilted his head. Well, she should've known better.

"An appointment?" he questioned. "But I feel well. Are you sick? Is it a medical appointment? I can come with you if you need me to."

She couldn't help but chuckle a little. "No, Cas, I'm not talking about seeing a doctor. I'm talking about you asking me on that date."

Cas' eyes widened a little and Emma saw his shoulders tense a little.

"Oh. That."

"How about tomorrow night?" Emma suggested, which just made the angel's eyes widen even more. Emma peaked at his aura and she saw that it was blinding bright and all over the place. Did that mean he was nervous? She smiled as she took him in. Of course he was. Give the guy an army of angels and an angel blade and he wouldn't miss a beat. A girl and a date, on the other hand…

"T-Tomorrow?" he stammered a little. "You want to go?"

Emma smiled widely at him. "We're fighting a fight that goes against all odds here. It might be our last chance to do that. So yeah, I would love to go on a date with you, Cas."

Melody arrived at the meeting spot right on time that afternoon, somehow managing to sell Sam a story about how badly she needed to rest after the traumatizing experience she'd just lived. Jace was leaning on a black shiny motorcycle, wearing a leather jacket, and Melody thought, hadn't she met Sam before and hadn't Jace played this wicked game of his, he would've been the guy of her dreams.

"Hey there, blondie," he smiled widely at her as she walked towards him.

Mel rolled her eyes at him and crossed her arms over her chest, not bothering to hide her annoyance.

"I guess I've been called worse," she muttered under her breath, and he chuckled.

"I can't imagine why," he replied and Melody narrowed her eyes at him. "Fancy seeing you here. Didn't think you'd show up."

Mel wrinkled her nose. "I'm not sure why I did."

Jace pursed his lips and chuckled a little, winking at her, which made Melody raise an eyebrow at him and his cockiness. "Drop the act, blondie. We both know why. You just couldn't wait to see me again."

Mel rolled her eyes. "Get over yourself. This time, I'm not drunk."

"We can remedy that," he wiggled his eyebrows at her. "Shooting tequila at noon is even better."

Melody threw her hands in the air.

"I can't believe this," she shrieked. "You called me here to mess with me. That's it, I'm out."

She turned on her heels and walked away towards her motorcycle, angry at herself for having wasted time and for actually believing there was something she could do to turn this shit around. But then she heard Jace laugh as he tried to catch up with her. She almost hoped he'd catch her elbow or that he'd lie a hand on her so that she'd have a reason to kick his ass a little bit, but the bastard knew better, because he didn't touch her. Instead, he ran in front of her, raising his hands, hoping to calm her down.

"Wait, wait, wait, Melody, please," he told her, smiling.

Mel stopped walking and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Look," Jace continued. "I'm sorry. I went a little over board. I just hoped I could recreate some of the fun we've had last night and get you to loosen up a little bit."

Melody's eyebrows shot up. "Loosen up?" she snapped. "Loosen. Up?"

Jace's eyes widened when he realized he was just making it worse. "Umm, okay, this clearly isn't working." He sighed. "Look, Melody. Let's just ignore the fact that I'm a complete idiot and start over. I was telling you the truth. I really can help you. So just hear me out, okay? And if you still choose to walk away afterwards, then so be it. But I highly doubt that."

Melody pondered it. She had to admit, it was tempting. There was a 50% chance that Jace was really offering her that opportunity to turn this shit around. And if he had really wanted to hurt her, he would've done it by now. So she figured there was no harm done just listening to him and kicking his ass later if necessary. The cold barrel of the gun she had tucked in the belt of her jeans was enough of a reassurance that she would've been able to get herself out of any mess is things got ugly.

She nodded at Jace. "Okay. Shoot. You can start by telling me who the hell are you."

Jace dropped any charm he might have had up his sleeve and put on his serious face. Melody was a little taken aback when she saw him like that. With all the goofiness set aside, Jace was pretty scary. There was some sort of intensity in his eyes that reminded her of Cas, if he were to lose the stiffness.

"My real name is Adriel," he told her, and Melody raised her eyebrows.

"Adriel?" she shrieked a little. "Doesn't this sound a little… I don't know, angel-ish?"

Jace looked at her suggestively, waiting for her to process and Mel just closed her eyes for a minute while the wheels in her head were spinning.

"Hold your horses," she said. "You mean to tell me… you're a freaking _angel_?"

Jace shrugged like there wasn't such a big deal, so nonchalantly Mel felt the need to punch him.

"Your boy Castiel isn't the only rogue angel there is," he rolled his eyes_. I swear, the sass on this guy_, Mel thought to herself. "We're just smarter."

"We?" Mel questioned. "I mean, there's more of you?"

"We're a community. Let's face it, if you and Castiel are buddies, then you must know Heaven's got some pretty rough business going on. Things have been pretty ugly for a while now. Plenty of us have rebelled. Of course, it's not like the cute obedient little angels would like it to be known that their flawless home has been stained by countless civil wars."

"Wow," Mel breathed. "That's pretty screwed up. So what about this angel community of yours?"

"Every now and then, when a big quarrel happens up there, there are angels who riot and choose to fall," he explained.

"Wait. As in, you're fallen angels? Graceless? Then how are you supposed to help us?"

Jace/Adriel huffed. "Please. Just because Cassy smart-assy was dumb enough to lose his grace in the process doesn't mean all of us do. We're still angels, we're just… nomads."

Melody paced back and forth, trying to process what he was telling her. Jace. Not Jace. Adriel. Angel. Rogue angel. The kind that had turned his back on heaven. She had no idea what that meant. What was he after? Revenge? Peace? Closure? War?

"Okay," she mumbled, rubbing her forehead. "So you're a rogue angel. What the hell were you doing in a bar? How did you know I'd be there? And what the hell do you want from me anyway? I don't even have that stupid grace anymore. Emma's the one with all the mojo. I was left hollow, empty inside, and perfectly useless."

She was practically screaming by now, focusing her rage that was eating her up on the situation at hand.

"Melody," Jace crossed his arms over his chest, speaking smoothly. "Are you aware of the fact that your sister is trying to close the gates of Heaven?"

Mel blinked. "She's what?"

"She is trying to seal the portal to Heaven, and Castiel is trying to help her. We pretty much doubt that she'd be willing to take up on our offer to help her, considering we're, y'know, the very thing she's trying to get rid of."

"So you thought you'd get me instead," Mel mocked. "Because I'm such a big fan of angels."

"No," Jace shook his head and shot a flirtatious smile in her direction. "Because even though Emma's the one with the mojo, like you said, you're fearless, Melody. I, for one, wasn't so sure about you. But I know now that you're willing to do whatever it takes to help your sister and not let her risk her life for nothing. Because believe me, she doesn't know what she's up against."

"And you know?" Mel asked incredulously. "You think you can help?"

"I'm sure I can."

Melody paced back and forth, thinking it through and pondering the options he was giving her.

"But why would you even do this?" she questioned Jace. "Heaven's your home. Those bastards are still your brothers and sisters and I know how OCD you guys can get about this. Are you really willing to screw them over?"

Jace rubbed his face, looking a little troubled for the first time since Melody met him. But he regained his composure quickly.

"Heaven's corrupted. My brothers and sisters have turned against me. It's not easy on us, Melody, but we'd rather have peace than war, and the choice is pretty easy to make in this case."

Melody nodded and sighed. She wanted so badly to jump on it, to say 'hell yeah' and get to work, but her every instinct shouted otherwise. This guy wasn't a Jace. He was an Adriel. An angel. All in all, the one creature they'd been running from in the past five years. Angels had been the ones who'd gotten her and her sister into this mess, who'd gotten them separated from their families and friends, who'd gotten them into a life of constant fear and anger. But also, adrenaline hit her veins like a thunderstorm at the idea of sharing the weight her sister wore. This was the first time since she'd been deprived of her grace when she felt like she actually had a purpose.

"Melody," Jace almost begged, kindness in his eyes. She hadn't thought there was another angel besides Cas capable of such emotion. "We have a plan, and it's big. But we need you. You're our key factor. So, are you in for kicking some smug gracey asses?"

She sighed. She had every intention of turning him down and disagreeing to his crazy missions. But she found herself smiling instead. Just a small, flirtatious, mischievous half-smile that she threw his way, along with a small nod.

"Fine. You've got yourself a deal."

"Well, if it ain't Rapunzel herself."

Melody rolled her eyes at Dean as she threw the bag of pie on the table, in front of him. Dean smiled widely.

"I was gonna ask where you've been, but since the outcome of your lil' trip is so satisfying, I don't even care," he stated as he sniffed the pie.

Mel huffed. "Glad we cleared that up, pretty eyes. S'always nice to know someone gives a rat's ass."

Dean winked at her, and Mel found herself smiling at how good this friendly bickering between them felt. "Don't beat yourself up, Rapunzel. As long as there's pie, you'll always have a friend in me."

Mel threw herself in the chair in front of him, putting her feet up on the table. "Well, Winchester, care to share some of that pie, now that we're friends?"

Dean had already stuffed his mouth with pie and glared a little at Mel for having the nerve to claim some of what he loved most, but he still pushed the pie her way. They ate in silence for a few minutes, finishing the pie so fast you couldn't even tell it was ever there.

After a while, Mel felt the weight of Dean's gaze on her and she narrowed her eyes at him.

"What?"

"Just a small curiosity of mine," Dean mumbled, and leaned on his elbows on the table to capture her eyes. "Don't get me wrong, I know it's none of my business and you kids can do whatever you wanna do, but once again, I'm curious. What's up with you and Sammy?"

Maybe, had the context been different or had it been anyone but Dean, she would've blushed her face off and stammered. But it was Dean. And if there was anyone at all who could understand her right now, it was Dean. Which is why she felt bad for having to lie to him about the plans she had gotten herself into with Jace/Adriel and his smurfs, but she knew Dean was perfectly able to understand her right now, because the two of them were twin souls.

She smiled from ear to ear and shrugged. "I don't know."

Dean raised his eyebrows. "You—You don't know."

Mel chuckled. "Yup. I have no clue. Something's going on. We're aware of it. We've just chosen not to do anything about it."

Dean looked at her for a few seconds then his lips curved into a smile of his own. "Huh."

Mel smiled to herself. She knew he'd get it.

"Sounds legit," Dean told her eventually. "Weird, but legit. Anyway, kiddo. Whatever it is you guys have going on between you, I'm glad. I don't know what you're doing to him, but keep doing it. It's been a while since I've seen him so alive."

He stood up from his chair and patted her shoulder, and Mel realized her eyes were a little wet.

"Dean?" she called after him as he was walking out of the library. He turned around. "For what it's worth, even if I'm not entirely sure what's going on with us, being around Sam is the most alive I've felt for the past five years, too."

He didn't answer, but Mel knew he was still wearing that content with a hint of sad smile on his face. And she couldn't have been happier for getting it out of her system at least for a little bit.

**Hey, guys! Here's a new chapter, from yours truly. I know not much is going on in this one, but at least we've finally gotten to know who Jace is! Watcha think of him? Also, I know not much makes sense right now, but we'll soon see what everyone was plotting. Heheh.**

**Anyway, if you want to check out some more gifs and images with our couples-to-be, check out my tumblr blog, .com **

**Lots of love, xoxo.**


	25. Chapter 24: Concrete angel

Emma had intended to wear the same long black dress she'd worn on the hunt for her date with Cas, but she eventually decided against it. Cas was an angel, she didn't need fancy clothes to impress him, and that dress was way, way too fancy. And while she wouldn't admit this to herself, in the back of her mind she knew that the dress still had Dean's scent imprinted on it, it still smelled like leather and whiskey, and wearing it would just revive the feeling of Dean's hand on her bare back. And this night was all about giving Cas a chance and pushing Dean out of her head. She settled for black jeans and a nice white blouse. It wasn't much, but she still looked more like a girl than she did in her hunting gear.

She went out of her room and was about to head for the library, where Cas waited for her, but as she walked down the hallway, she heard a deep voice behind her.

"Emma."

She stopped, but she didn't turn around. She knew who it was. She recognized his voice, his smell, the way his aura shifted the air.

"Dean," she replied in a strangled breath.

She cleared her voice and turned on her heels. But while his voice tickled something inside her that she wanted to put to sleep, seeing him there, in his plaid shirt, hands shoved in his pockets, his beard beginning to grow, his hair ruffled, green eyes staring into hers, that sight shattered her.

"You're beautiful," he murmured, and Emma told herself he couldn't have chosen a worse timing to throw that at her. It was also too little too late.

"Thanks," she replied. "I should go. Cas is waiting for me."

Dean gulped and scratched the back of his neck. He knew about their date and scolded himself every time he began to feel bad about it. He was the one who'd advised Emma to go and he _had _to be happy for Cas despite his feelings for her. But he couldn't really bring himself to do that. So instead, he just sucked it up and settled for trying to fix things with Emma. When she turned around and wanted to leave, he found the guts to catch her elbow. He felt her flinch a little at his touch but decided it was wiser not to read into that.

"Em," he told her, and she turned around to face him, biting her lip, his hand still on her arm. "I just wanted to, y'know, apologize for—"

"Don't," Emma cut him off, closing her eyes. "Don't apologize. Don't say anything. Just don't, okay? Let's forget about it. Cas is waiting for me, for crying out loud."

Dean nodded, dropping her gaze. He couldn't forget about it. Could she? He'd always wonder, he'd always go over it again and again and he'd always wish that, last night, he'd just had a few more seconds to finish what he had started. But yeah. Cas was waiting for her.

"Yeah, okay," he whispered, and tightened his grip on her arm. "We good?"

Emma sighed. How was she supposed to answer that? Was there a right and a wrong answer? She was too confused to be having this conversation right now. So she looked down at Dean's hand on her arm and placed her hand over it. For a second, Dean's face lit up with hope. As long as things were okay between them, it didn't matter that she was going out with his best friend or that they'd screwed up one of the most beautiful five minutes of his entire existence. If they were okay, he could take it. But Emma didn't rest her hand there. She took his gently in hers and removed it, slowly dropping it and avoiding his gaze.

"I don't know," she answered him and left him there, alone, in the hallways, while she went to meet Cas.

Emma tried to get a hold of herself as she made her way to the library, where Cas was waiting for her. But as she walked in and caught sight of him, her eyes widened a little. The man standing in front of her wasn't an angel wearing a shady trench coat, he was a handsome, dressed up to the nines, clear blue-eyed man, wearing a suit and an anxious look on his normally serene face.

"Oh, Cas," Emma gasped as she took him in and she chuckled a little.

Cas shrugged and Emma could see the tension in his shoulders.

"I hope this is okay," he told her. "I wasn't sure what the proper dress code for such occasions was. I assumed it called for formal dressing."

Emma smiled and went to stand in front of him, arranging the collar of his suit. She saw him gulp a little.

"Well, Cas, you know what they say about people who _**ass**_ume."

The angel frowned and tilted his head a little, like he always did when he didn't understand something. It was utterly adorable, Emma thought, and it would've been so easy to fall for this innocent, selfless, kind soul. It should've been easy. And she hated herself for every beat her heart didn't skip for him.

"No," Cas admitted. "I don't know."

Emma threw her head back laughing at his cluelessness and dismissed the topic with a wave of her hand.

"Never mind," she told him, still smiling, reaching for his trench coat that was lying thrown on the back rest of a chair. "But point is, Cas, you don't need to dress a certain way. You don't have to worry about making a good impression on me. You've already won me over."

She shot a bright smile in his direction and threw the trench coat over his shoulders, helping him out his arms through the long sleeves.

"I-I have?" he asked her, still frowning.

"Of course," she reassured him. "You're charm lies in who you are. And I'm pretty fond of who you are."

Cas blinked for a few seconds before returning her a small, genuine smile that finally made Emma's heart beat a tiny bit faster. 'Atta girl, she told herself. That's the spirit.

"Now," she suggested. "Shall we?"

They walked out of the bunker and headed to Cas' car. Emma wanted to climb into the driver's seat, but Cas stopped her, since he didn't want her to know where he was taking her. Castiel and date surprises. Who would've thought?

They rode in silence for a few minutes and Emma was once again taken aback by how simple it was to just be around Cas. There was a serenity in the air between them that made her breathe with more ease than she ever thought she'd be able to.

With the corner of her eye, she saw him studying her closely. She blushed a little, but then she understood what he was doing.

"Castiel," she joked. "Are you trying to read my aura?"

She noticed that the tips of his ears had turned a little pink, but he didn't answer. That was the day she'd seen it all, Emma thought. She'd seen an angel blush.

"Cas," she whined a little, chuckling. "You can't do that. That's cheating. You don't cheat on dates."

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, troubled. "This is a new experience for me. I wanted to make sure you feel comfortable and I wanted to observe how you feel in order to act in conformity with your needs."

Emma laughed whole-heartedly at his fancy talk. It was all so sci-fi for him, this dating thing, it was almost cute.

"It's okay, Cas," she told him. "I'm fine. That's the whole point of dating. Learning to be in sync with another person. How to set a common pace. It's not fair if you already know the other person's pace."

He watched her thoughtfully for a few seconds and then he nodded. After a few minutes of more silence, Emma decided to voice the question that was nudging the back of her mind.

"Cas, can I ask you something?"

"Of course," he answered.

"Why did you ask me out?"

He frowned a little. "I don't understand the implications of your question."

Emma fought a smile, trying to keep a straight face if she wanted a serious conversation on this matter.

"I mean," she tried to explain herself. "You've been alive for thousands of years. You've been a warrior angel, a human, a rogue angel and you've lived on earth for what, 6 or 7 years now? And you're the kindest person I've ever known. How come after so much time, you've settled for asking out, such a human thing to do, a mere mortal girl?"

Cas was still frowning when he turned slightly to her.

"Are you asking me why, in thousands of years of existence, I've now fallen for you?"

Emma tried to keep her eyes from widening and her jaw from falling. Castiel had just admitted he was falling for her. And for an angel to use such a strong word as 'falling', considering the implications it held for them, it made the whole thing just a whole lot more intense.

"I guess—I guess I am," she muttered eventually.

"Emma, you are anything but a mere mortal girl. And I've had a very long and tiresome existence. Dull, even."

He sighed, and Emma found herself more mesmerized than ever by his presence.

"You know, there've only been two humans who made me question the perfection of the celestial life and the unquestionable laws of Heaven in comparison to the complexity of the human being. The first one was Dean, the righteous man."

She saw such pride in his eyes when he spoke of Dean, that Emma admired the friendship that was bonding those two. Cas was an example of loyalty.

"The second one was you," he continued, and Emma stopped breathing. "I admired Dean's humanity. It was what first made me rebel against my home. But you were the one human that made me see and love the beauty of the small things that came with being human. A smile. A laughter. The brightness of your eyes. In thousands of years of existing and six years of admiring humanity, you were the first human who made me feel like I was alive. You don't look at me like I'm a celestial being fighting for you."

Emma was struggling for words, for just a handful of words to fully capture every feeling that was tingling inside of her. But before she could open her mouth, she noticed that the car had stopped. Huh, she thought. That was pretty fast. It meant they weren't very far from the bunker.

"We're here," Cas announced, and they got out of the car.

Emma gasped as she took in the view. It looked like it had been ripped out of a painting and the colors and details had been splashed across a meadow. There was a lake circled by imposing trees, their leafy treetops reigning high, owning the horizon. The half-moon was reflected in the clear water of the lake, along with millions of stars mirroring themselves as millions of dots on the water surface. The night sky was so clear they could see the outline of every star, bathing in its stardust. The silence was deafening, and Emma was slowly drowning in it like she was underwater and she was struggling for a last breath, filling her lungs and suffocating her. But she loved it. She loved it so much. It was dark and quiet and the stars shared secrets and her eyes captured them and held them under the locket of her emerald-green irises.

She looked at Cas, and she saw that he was watching her, his blue eyes matching the shade of the lake. She saw that their moonlit shadow spread in front of them, as if sheltering them into this moment. She wondered if this was what flying felt like.

"Do you like it?" Cas broke the silence.

Emma choked a little with tears, but fought them back and shot Cas a smile.

"If I like it? Cas, I love it. I never thought I'd ever be given the chance to see something so beautiful. This feels like nothing could possibly be wrong with the world. Too bad I know better."

Cas turned to her.

"There's nothing wrong with the world," he told her. "It's just been stained by some wrong circumstances throughout its history."

Emma chuckled. "That's a nice way to put it."

She saw his eyes scan the skyline and it occurred to her that all of these stars that mesmerized her to such extent that it made her want to cease being a body and be just a soul instead, to mold with them, they meant something entirely different to Cas. It meant family.

"Was it hard, Cas?" she dared to ask him. "Watching the angels fall? I know you guys have that family feud going on, but was it hard to watch your brothers and sisters be cast out Heaven?"

Cas sighed. "I'm not sure," he admitted. "I can't perceive emotions the same way you do. At least not when it comes to other angels. I guess it made me sad, if I were to translate it into human emotions. It was a powerful process and a painful transition for me, being thrown out of my own home. It wasn't easy to see my brothers and sisters undergo the same transition."

"What do you mean, at least not when it comes to other angels?" Emma questioned, deciding not to intrude over his feelings and to respect his privacy. "Is it different with humans?"

Cas smiled an awkward smile and had the audacity to take her hand. Electricity shot through Emma's arm when his fingers grazed hers, her breath catching in her throat.

"It is indeed," he told her, watching their intertwined fingers. "When it comes to my attachment towards a human, every feeling is enhanced. Highlighted. Endlessly more intense."

Emma tried to return his smile. But this was wrong. So wrong. It wasn't supposed to be this way. She really wanted to make this work, she owed it to Cas. She wanted that electricity to set her heart on fire and awake her senses. Cas was an angel. Cas was a good guy. Cas cared so much about her.

Then how come ever since she'd arrived here, and now as he held her hand, she couldn't stop picturing Dean?

She wanted him to be here. She wanted his shadow to dance along hers over the moonlit lake water. She wanted his touch to electrify her skin. She wanted to watch the reflection of the stars in his eyes. She wanted him to hold her and sing "Moon Dance" to her one more time. She wanted another moon dance with him here, now.

But she was here with Cas. And she wanted so badly to be with Dean. Dammit, was this wrong.

"Oh my God, Cas, I'm sorry, I can't," she took her hand out of his and turned her back on him, breathing heavily, her hands over her face.

"I'm so sorry," she repeated. "I really wanted this to work out, because I really care about you. But I can't. It's not fair."

Cas was silent for a few minutes, and she was hunting for something else to say. To explain herself. His eyes were unreadable. Those instants before she spoke, Emma could swear her lungs constricted so badly to make room for the pieces of her heart shattering in her chest after having hurt the only person in her life who knew how to be entirely selflessly good.

"I was hoping I'd be wrong," he told her eventually, fixating his eyes on hers, the crystal blue in them shining with resignation.

"What?" Emma mumbled.

"This is about Dean."

Her eyes widened and her hands that were shaking heavily just seconds ago, were now frozen into place, her heart felt now like it was made of hard wax.

"What?" she repeated dumbly.

"I've seen it," Cas confessed, his eyes never leaving hers. "I noticed. Your auras mingle into each other when the other one is around. I've never seen anything quite like it. But I was hoping I had misinterpreted it. But I wasn't wrong. You're in love with Dean."

Emma laughed humorlessly. "I'm not in love with him."

"Yes," Cas cut her off gently. "You are."

Emma paced back and forth, repeating 'I'm sorry' like those little words held any power whatsoever to make it any better. She wasn't in love with Dean. They had some chemistry and there was definitely some electricity working between the two of them, but she wasn't in love with him. Was she?

"Cas, I'm sorry," she still repeated, turning to face him this time and locking his gaze. "I really am. This wasn't right to you."

"Emma—"

"No, please. I want to say this. You said you've lived a dull existence so far. And I wanted so badly, Cas, to be that person who makes it all worth it. But I can't. I can't take thousands of years of existence and just shed light over them with the power of love, Cas. I know you think otherwise, but I'm human. I'm human and this is beyond me."

She took a minute to catch her breath, and he didn't talk. He let her pour her heart out without interfering.

"You've still got an eternity left ahead of you, Cas," she continued, whispering. "It's not fair on my behalf to deprive you of that right, of having someone to provide you an eternity alongside of her. And I can't, Cas. I'm still human. And you're an angel. Not the asshole of the Lord kind, but the kind that my mother used to tell me about when I was a kid, the kind that I grew up thinking they watched over me. And you deserve nothing less than the best."

They stood in silence, a few tears sheltered under Emma's lashes, Cas looking at her with a sad, troubled look on his face. Emma wanted to beg him to speak. She wanted to know he'd be okay, she wanted him to tell her that he understood and that she hadn't just shattered his grounds.

"That was a nice speech," he said eventually, with the smallest of smiles playing over his lips. "And thank you. These were the nicest words I've ever been told. But you're still in love with Dean."

Emma pursed her lips and dropped his gaze. This was a topic she wasn't ready to talk about. She wanted to push it deeply into her mind, shove it under fifty feet of denial until it was heavy enough to crumbled over her, suffocating her, forcing herself to deal with it. Because the alternative was worse. She'd have rather dealt with suppressed feelings than deal with the outcome of the hurricane she and Dean would've left behind if they were to face those feelings. She didn't trust her heart enough to get over that.

"I don't know," she mumbled. "I really don't know."

And then Cas did something that threw her a little off track. He smiled. Not that sad smile he had worn since he'd figured her out. Probably the most genuine smile she'd ever seen on his face. She checked out his aura to see that it was beginning to shine so bright she couldn't ignore it even if she wanted to.

"It's okay," he told her. "I can't say I could have foreseen such thing. But you and Dean are indeed a pleasant surprise. I sort of expected Dean to turn to Melody or you to turn to Sam. But I see now that it was rather obvious things would turn out this way. The person Dean loved the most in this world for his entire life was Sam. Once you showed up, it was only natural that he'd fall for you."

Emma closed her eyes and rubbed her temples, overwhelmed.

"Let's not talk about that," she begged. "I really don't want to think about it."

Cas frowned, and Emma was glad that things were going back on track and that she hadn't broken his pure, innocent angel heart.

"Why not?"

Emma bit her lip and squeezed her eyes shut. "Because tomorrow we're going to war."

They got home a couple of hours later. Cas wished her good night and Emma told him again how grateful she was that they'd settled things between them. Cas assured her he understood and that he was okay. Emma hoped he meant that.

She was headed to her room when she walked by the library. She caught sight of a small movement and turned her head. Dean was standing there, wearing sweatpants and a tight T-shirt that embraced his toned torso in ways that made her breath catch in her throat. He looked at her with wide eyes, his lips slightly parted, clearly not expecting her.

"Hey," he whispered in his deep, husky voice that stopped Emma's heart every time she heard it. "How was, uh, your date?"

Emma looked at him for a few seconds. She took him in. She really took him in. His eyes, his ruffled hair, his calloused hands, his full lips she's been so close to kissing, his strong arms she'd been into just a couple of nights ago, his unshaved cheeks, the mark of Cain, the strong chest she felt his heart beating against when they were dancing. This was Dean. Dean Winchester. The man she'd fallen in love with. The words felt weird flowing through her head at first. But even weirder, they made perfect sense.

Dean looked at her intensely, still waiting for an answer. But she couldn't do this. This might have been the last time she saw him. If this were to be her last night on earth, she wanted to remember him like this. She wanted to go down with this feeling tickling her chest. So she walked away, to her room, leaving him behind. Tonight, and maybe for good.

**Yeah, she figured it out, but she's too dumb to act on it. Well, well. How'd you like this one? Hope you enjoyed it!**

**Anyway, it has been brought to my attention that the link to my Tumblr didn't work the last time, so here, I hope this one works: .com ( .com, just in case). You can go there and check out the gifs and the photoshopped images I posted there. I promise they're pretty cool.**

**Lots of love, xoxo.**

**P.S. oh my God, guys! I just hit 10k views this weekend! I can't possibly tell you, once again, how happy you guys make me and how flattered I am for everyone that clicks this story! Love you!**


	26. Chapter 25: Death valley

Emma woke up at dawn. Still in love with Dean Winchester. She groaned and pushed the thought out of her head. She needed a clear mind for what was to come today. This was the day that changed everything.

She sighed and climbed out of bed. She stopped in front of the mirror, wanting to memorize every little detail about herself. She had talked to Cas about this. The chances that they got out of this alive were next to nothing. She had accepted that. She was perfectly okay with sacrificing her life if it meant providing a safe life for her sister. For Sam, and for both of them to lead the happy life they deserved together, once they'd realize how deeply they'd fallen for each other. For Dean. For her Dean. It'd be hard for them, but they'd get over it. At least, so she hoped.

She turned around, wanting to grab her bag and pack a few things. But then it occurred to her that there was nothing she needed to take with her apart from her conscience, her memories, and her angel blade. And she already had those all on her.

She walked out of her room, refusing to look back and risk having her mind changed. Cas was waiting for her outside. She wanted so badly that she'd had a chance to say goodbye, even if they didn't know it was a goodbye. She wanted nothing but a chance to look at them one more time and leave for battle with their image imprinted on the back of her mind. With their voices as a soundtrack.

She shook her head, knowing how bad of an idea this was. She had already made up her mind that her heart couldn't stand a goodbye, because, while she had accepted the possibility of not coming back, the hope of seeing them again was kind of her fuel for this whole crazy thing. And still, as she walked past Melody's room, her legs stopped. She couldn't move, she couldn't breathe. She'd seen Dean for the last time last night. She couldn't say goodbye to Sam. But she'd be damned if she would leave for this suicidal mission without seeing her sister's face again. Mel was the main reason why she was going through this in the first place.

She cracked the door open, careful not to make any noise. It was the crack of dawn, so she knew Mel had to be asleep. She saw her little sister curled up under the sheets, her blond hair spread over the pillows, a peaceful look on her face, her lips slightly parted. This was the only reassurance she needed. She smiled to herself, blinked back the tears and shut the door behind her.

Okay. She was ready.

Or so she thought.

"Em?"

She gasped and squeezed her eyes shut. Not again. Not now.

She considered pretending she hadn't heard and walking away just like that, but feeling his aura behind her kept her frozen in place. How silly of her to think she could sneak around him just like that. Even if between them was nothing but silence, she was foolish to think there was any way to keep her soul from calling to him so loud, the shockwaves kept bringing him to her.

She turned around and forced a painful smile.

"Dean," she whispered, breathlessly. "'Morning. Why are you up so early?"

He took a few steps towards her, his gaze scrutinizing her.

"Where are you going?" he asked her, ignoring her earlier question. Of course. Of course he saw through her.

Emma gulped, her mouth so dry she could barely speak.

"N-Nowhere," she stammered then she chuckled nervously. "I-I mean, I couldn't sleep and I thought I'd go for a walk."

Dean got even closer, and her thoughts went flying. _Please, don't let him come any closer_, she prayed_. No more. No more. One more step and I'll be lost. One more and I'll never be able to walk away from him._

He stopped inches from her, shattering her every defense. It took every ounce of self-control to restrain her impulses.

"I don't believe you," Dean told her sharply, articulating every sound, more intense than Emma had ever seen him. "Where are you going, Emma?"

She gulped, perfectly aware that he'd be able to read through every lie that was about to roll over her tongue. There was no going past him right now.

"I-I told you. For a walk."

"And I told you I don't believe you," he repeated, and Emma's breaths started to fasten.

"Dean—"

"No, Emma," he cut her off. "Please. Whatever it is you wanna do, whatever it is you think might make it better, it won't. I don't know and I don't give a rat's ass where you wanna go. Don't. Stay here, dammit, we can fix this."

His eyes captured hers and his face was painfully close to hers. They were breathing the same electrically charged air. She had sought shelter for so long and now that she knew it was in his arms, she had to leave it. It was just so unfair.

She shook her head helplessly. "You can't. I'm sorry, Dean."

She leaned in with the intention to kiss him, if only for the first and last time. As she touched his shoulder, she felt him stiffen and she felt his aura intensify, his heart speeding. There was no denying, they both longed for it. But she knew that, the moment their lips touched, she would never be able to go. She'd abandon everything for one broken human. She'd stay, if only to fix her Dean. So she purposefully avoided his lips and kissed his cheek so softly it resembled the touch of the lightest feather.

Dean caught her wrist just as her lips left his skin; now, there were no more than millimeters between their mouths and she saw it in his eyes, how badly he wanted to close that distance.

"Emma," he whispered her name like a prayer and she couldn't stand it, dammit, she could not stand him anymore. There was only so much power of will a human can have.

"I'm sorry, Dean," she whispered back, against his lips, and she felt a small tear slip from the corner of her eye.

With a movement he didn't have time to catch, Emma pressed two fingers on the inside of his wrist and his lids fluttered closed, depriving her of the glow of their green. Dean fell on the floor, at her feet, unconscious. Just a little trick Cas had taught her, just in case. She had prayed so badly that she wouldn't need to use it.

"I'm sorry," she muttered again, even though Dean couldn't hear her anymore, and she left without looking back this time.

Cas was waiting for her outside, by his car.

"Are you prepared?" he asked her when he caught sight of her.

She nodded wordlessly and avoided his gaze, but Cas noticed her mood.

"Is there something wrong? Did you have any unexpected encounters?"

Emma shook her head, not trusting herself enough to voice the words banging so loud against the defenses of her mind, they deafened her. There was nothing Cas needed to know now. Nothing else mattered than their task.

"It was nothing important," she lied. "Let's go. We have a long day ahead of us."

Mel heard Emma. With a light sleep like hers, it was impossible not to wake up when she heard her sister open the door of her bedroom. She knew what Emma was there for. She was leaving. It was happening today.

She didn't give any sign that she was awake. She didn't think it was necessary. She knew Emma enough to know that it would've just made things harder and more complicated for her. Instead, she waited until the voices outside her door died out and got out of bed, grabbing her phone.

She searched through the contacts until she found the one she needed and she pressed dial. It rang a few times until he picked up.

"Hey," Mel whispered. "It's me. You were right. My sister just left. I just called to let you know that I'm in."

She could almost hear his smile on the other end of the line. "That's the spirit, blondie."

Emma and Cas went over the plan all day long. They had had to leave at dawn in order to avoid the others, but it was all staged to happen after sunset.

It was near. Emma felt it in the air. Her lungs cherished every breath of fresh air they took. She and Cas were several feet away from the playground were the portal to Heaven was.

"Are you entirely certain that you know what to do?" Cas asked her for the twentieth time.

She sighed. "Yes, Cas. That little girl and the mom are the guards. We move fast, take them down, then seal the portal before too many angels have a chance to make their way back here, then we hope they're not too many and we can handle them."

Cas sighed and glared at her, clearly not too happy with her explanation.

"I know, I know," Emma told him before he had a chance to remind her over and over again how serious of an issue this was. "Trust me, Cas, I know this is big. But I've got it. Now we'd better get moving."

Truth was, she was scared out of her mind. The clock was ticking. She counted her blessings. Cas nodded and she could practically hear the cannons go off. Show time.

They moved fast, indeed, but silent as cats. They sneaked up on the guards as close as they could without being seen. Emma's heart was beating so hard she could feel it slam against her rib cage.

"I will go against the mother," Cas whispered to him, and by the intensity in his voice, Emma could tell he shared her fears and anxieties, though he was by far more focused. "You should take the child, then rush to the portal and channel the grace like I instructed you."

She nodded and swallowed against her feelings. She needed her whole focus.

Then everything happened in a haze. Cas jumped on the mother. She must've sensed him, because she fought back with no hesitation. They were still caught in a lethal dance, Cas' moves precise and deathly, when Emma went to attack the child.

She pulled out her angel blade, channeled grace in her muscles and felt her senses sharpen. She went straight for her heart, not affording to waste any time or to give her enough of an opening to fight back. However, the angel ducked and Emma missed her shot, so she did the next best thing she could, just like Cas had taught her. She didn't hesitate. She pushed her muscles before they had a chance to relax, never missing a beat, and was about to strike again.

But the little angel never gave her the chance. She didn't fight back, and Emma was left baffled, not knowing how to react, as the angel flew past her.

"Emma, the portal, now!" Cas shouted at her, and she saw that he had already taken out his angel.

She turned around and saw that the little angel had vanished into thin air. She stopped breathing when she realized what she'd done. She'd gone back to Heaven. She was going to come back with reinforcements.

"Hurry up, before they ambush us!" Cas prompted her, and she pulled herself together.

Emma closed her eyes and tried to take deep breaths, visualizing the grace flow throw her circulatory system, from the smallest vessels through her veins all the way to her heart, which pumped it into her arteries, filling her with energy. She tried to connect with the grace of the portal, since Cas had told her that the only way to close the portal was extract its energy, so that it wouldn't have any fuel left to run on, and then dissipate that energy into thin air so that the former portal would be nothing less than a broken wormhole.

She heard the ruffle of wings around her, but she tried to keep her mind off of it. In the distance, she heard Cas grunt and kick and she knew that he was trying to cover for her, keeping every angel that had managed to sneak out through the portal away from her. She just hoped he diverted them long enough for her to do her job. She felt it. It was close now. Any minute now. She was—

She gasped for air as she fell to the ground, one of the angels knocking her down just before she got the chance to finish the job. She got on her feet as fast as she could, ready to fight back, and she took in the scene. Cas stood by her side, bloody and muddy and breathing heavily, and before them stood a dozen angels.

"Emma—" Cas began in a hushed voice, but whatever it was he wanted to say to her, she didn't want to hear it. She needed to stick to the plan.

"We can do this," she told him, more for her sake and encouragement than his. "I just have to fight my way through them as efficiently as I can, and you need to keep them off my ass for just a while. I almost had it. I only need a few seconds."

"Emma, even if you manage that, we are still outnumbered. We can't make it."

She swallowed around the lumped that was forming in her throat. Focus. Focus. Focus.

"I know," she said simply, and Cas understood every word she wasn't saying. That she was perfectly aware that they wouldn't make it. That it was a risk she was willing to take. That she'd known all along that this possibility existed. That she would take it nonetheless because she owed that to herself, to her sister, to the Winchesters and to every single person she'd left behind along the way. The cards were dealt and even if she were to lose the game, she'd play the hell out of it.

She launched herself in the middle of them, swinging her blade left and right, and she felt Cas moving by her side in the same way. She felt sharp edges grazing her skin, tearing her flesh, but she didn't stop. She couldn't stop. She had to get to that portal.

For the briefest second, Cas had managed to create a small opening for her, at the cost of being surrounded by five or six angels. She hoped he could handle them, that it'd be enough to accomplish what they needed.

It wasn't.

She was knocked down again and a few angels were lounging at her, too. How many of these bastards were there? She got back on her feet and prepared for another spin in this crazy carousel, but as she took the scenery in, she lost all hope.

This was impossible. They'd die for nothing. Not only would she leave her sister and the Winchesters alone, breaking their hearts, but she would also leave them behind to fight this stupid war with two men down. Without her or Cas. Stupid, stupid idea. She and Cas were now back to back, facing more angels than she could dare to count. She'd never seen so many in one place. They had them surrounded. Helpless. At their mercy.

Emma swallowed hardly. "Cas?" He didn't answer right away, but she knew he had heard her, and that he understood.

"I know," he replied. "It was an honor fighting this war alongside you."

She gave a humorless laugh. "Same goes for me, Cas. But it ain't over yet. We're still going down swinging."

Back to back, they were about to launch themselves into this suicidal mess, when the mass of angels parted to create some sort of pathway that led to the two of them. And at the other end of it stood Emma's nightmare incarnated, dressed up in a suit, with cruel, merciless blue eyes sunk in his orbits.

"Raziel," she whispered breathlessly, and prayed that her knees wouldn't give in just now. Actually, she wasn't really praying. It would've been pretty ridiculous, considering she was now facing the blade of the very thing she had used to pray to.

"Well, well," Raziel began to talk, sounding rather bored than bothered. "You've been quite the pain in the ass, haven't you?"

He started walking towards them between the angel soldiers fighting for them. Emma saw Cas step in front of her, protectively, and she wanted so badly to tell him there was no need for this. They weren't gonna make it anyway. What use would it be?

Raziel chuckled maliciously at Cas' act of courage and loyalty.

"How foolish of you to think you can protect your little human," he mocked Cas. "Quite brave. But foolish nonetheless. Seeing your affection towards her, I think I'm gonna kill her nice and slow first, just to spite you."

Emma saw the muscles in Cas' back tense, and she meant to put her hand on his shoulder, but she found that she was unable to move.

"You will not lay a finger on her," Cas spoke intensely and fierce.

"I'd like to see you stop me," Raziel kept mocking them. "You really thought you could march in here and stand against us? Have you no self-preservation? You came in like rats into my cage!"

He laughed loudly, his voice booming in the night, making Emma's blood freeze in her veins.

"Oh, I'm so gonna enjoy killing you off," he laughed to himself like he had just come up with the funniest joke anyone's ever heard. "You, Castiel, spawn of treachery, the one who turned his back on Heaven. I've been waiting for a long time to get my hands on you. And you, silly girl, who's been nothing but trouble for the past years. The only thing shadowing this glorious night is not being able to end your little sister as well, along with those Winchester boys you slick bitches were multiplies after. But all in due time."

As Raziel's words registered in Emma's head and she acknowledged the threat over Melody and the boys, her body finally reacted and she gripped her blade and lounged for that bastard's neck.

"Don't you dare go anywhere near them," she roared, wanting nothing more than to put that blade through that asshole's skull, but Cas pulled her back before the other angels would put their blades through hers.

Raziel seemed to find it amusing and gave a whole-hearted laugh.

"You ants," he snarled. "I'm already getting bored of this game. How about we end the charade, shall we?"

He extended his arms with the highest level of arrogance he was capable of, pulling an angel blade out of his sleeve, and Emma and Cas knew their minutes were counted. Any moment now. Emma realized she'd made her peace with it. She was still resentful and her lungs filled with the heaviness of regrets and fear for what awaited her on the other side. She hated the unknown. But other than that, she had accepted her fate. Any. Moment. Now. She waited for the blow.

It came out from somewhere behind her.

She felt the sharp, cold edge of a blade near her skin.

Then it flew right past her.

And it stopped right between Raziel's eyes, making him glow like a Christmas tree.

The other angels stood there frozen, unable to fully process what had just happened. The girl and the rogue angel should have died. Yet they were still standing. And their leader was dead.

Emma and Cas let out the breath they were holding, not really understanding either. They turned around in the direction from where the blade had come and Emma gasped as the pieces fell into place in her head when she saw who had thrown it.

"Surprise, motherfuckers!"

A few feet away, surrounded by dozens of angels who looked strangely enough on their side, rolling an angel blade around her fingers, stood Melody, with the most wicked smirk on her face.

**Cha ching! Hoped you liked it and enjoyed it as much as I did! This chapter was lots of fun to write. **

**Anyway, for some pretty awesome gifs and photoshoped pictures, check out my Tumblr blog that I created for this story. I've been told the link still doesn't work, so if you're interested, you can look it up on Tumblr. The url is supernatural-fanfictional. **

**Lots of love, xoxo**


	27. Chapter 26: Seven nation army

"Melody!" Emma shrieked, holding her hurt side she'd fallen on and staring at the silhouette of her sister wide-eyed. What the hell was going on here? Why was Melody here? Why was she surrounded by an army of angels? Who was the gorgeous angel standing by her side? Had she really killed Raziel?

All of these thoughts kept rolling through her head in a matter of seconds, because the fight was far from being over. The odds had just evened. Before Emma and Cas had a chance to process what was exactly happening, another angel decided to take advantage of the opening and launched himself to attack Emma. She was too shocked to even have a chance to defend herself, but it wasn't necessary.

Before the angel got to her, he fell to the ground, dead as well, also an angel blade stuck between his eyes.

Emma turned again to her sister, who was still standing there, dangerous and terrifying, looking slightly annoyed.

"Did I tell you, assholes, you could move?" she yelled, and Emma felt her eyebrows rise. Her mind was following, but her instincts screamed at her that Melody was pretty much a goddess right now.

Mel straightened her back, standing tall and intimidating. There was no denying that she was in all truthness a powerful fighter and an enemy worth of fearing.

"Okay, so I'm gonna give you, losers, two options," Mel's voice boomed across the playground, fierce and steady. "You can back the hell off, go home and keep your feathery asses there. Or," she articulated the word, giving Emma goosebumps. "Or we fight. And I can promise I'll kill as many of you as I can. I do hope you'll choose this one. It's the one I'll enjoy the most."

There was a tragic aggressiveness in her voice. This was getting personal. It wasn't about locking up Heaven and making the world a better place. It had become a vengeful game, a payback that was due for the years that the Bennett sisters had lost because of these gracey bastards. Yeah, Melody was really going to enjoy a nice, beautiful blood bath. She had an army of her own and a tank of resentment at hand. Piece of cake.

The girls felt the tension build up among the angels and the anticipation slammed hard against their ribs with every beat of their hearts. Eventually, one of the angels stepped forward, speaking angrily and fierce.

"How dare you?" he spat. "Who do you think you are? You kill our leader, one of our brothers, and then you expect us to kneel before you? Heaven does not bow down. You shall know our wrath."

Emma shuddered a little, but Melody was still standing there proudly, her hands in the back pockets of her jeans, and Emma knew her sister well enough to understand that she was all into fighting. Somehow, it had become more Melody's fight than hers.

"And you, Adriel?" the newly self-proclaimed angel leader turned to the guy standing next to Melody, who Emma realized must've been Adriel. "You have achieved a new level of betrayal. After hundreds of years of scheming against your home, you once again made the wrong allegiance. This ends tonight. Heaven is done showing any mercy."

The Adriel guy didn't seem to have anything to say to that and he just shrugged carelessly and smirked. Mel, on the other hand, started to walk forward and stopped by her sister's side, put a hand on her shoulder and gave her a reassuring squeeze.

"Save your speeches," Melody said. "You took everything from me five years ago. Now I've finally got something to fight for again. And I'll be damned if I'm letting anyone of you take that away from me."

She leaned in to Emma's ear and whispered the words so quick, Emma had trouble understanding them.

"We've got it. You take Cas to watch your back and close that portal."

Emma blinked and nodded, and then everything happened insanely fast.

The rogue angels launched themselves at the other ones and the whole thing turned into the clash of titans. The night shone with angel grace in morbid ways. Emma and Cas tried to make their way back to the portal through the angels, trying to ignore the pain of the angel blades grazing their skin and take down as many angels as possible in the process.

And Emma was good. But Melody was lethal.

She was unstoppable. A real force of nature. She never missed a beat, never stopped, never hesitated, she just hit and ran over and over again. Her every move was like a perfectly choreographed dance and she was nailing it. Her moves were precise and deadly.

Emma allowed herself to smirk a little. Now they had a true shot at winning this war. Fair and square.

She and Cas got back to the portal and Emma could already feel the energy radiating out of it. From here on, as long as her back was safe, it was all pretty much just a technicality. She turned to Cas only to find him watching her with wary eyes. She realized he hadn't spoken at all since Mel and her secret gang had showed up and Emma wondered in what ways and how much it affected him.

"Go, Cas," she told him. "I can handle it from here. Go help Melody."

She saw him ponder for a second whether he should leave her alone, but eventually, he realized he was more needed out there. So he nodded at her and took off into the fight.

Emma tried to lose focus of the battle and concentrate on her task. She closed her eyes and tuned everything out, struggling to get back in touch with the grace the portal had been built over. It took a few minutes, but she eventually managed to make that connection and to resume the extraction of the grace. She was almost there. She could feel it. In just a few seconds, she was done.

She exhaled sharply as she released the grace into the atmosphere around her and it slowly faded away. She had done it. She had really done it.

She laughed hysterically and turned around to take in the situation of the battle. But right before she could make eye contact with her sister or even realize that the number of the angels had been radically minimized, because just when she did turn around, she met the cold eyes of the angel who had taken the lead of the Heaven army.

And then, she met the cold, sharp edge of his blade and felt it twist into her stomach, and then she fell to her knees.

Dean woke up that morning on the floor, in the hallway of the bunker, with the world's worst headache. He groaned as he got up, trying to remember what the hell had happened to him.

He stumbled to Sam's room grunting, wondering for how long he'd been out as it all started to come back to him. Emma. It had something to do with Emma. She was in trouble and she needed help.

He rushed into Sam's room without knocking and found his brother on his bed, working on his laptop.

"Dean!" Sam exclaimed as he shut his laptop and Dean landed on his bed. "What happened?"

"Emma took off."

"What?" Sam jumped off the bed, wide-eyed.

"She knocked me out and left. I'm guessing she has some stupid plan to fight the angels all by herself. We have to find her, Sam."

"Yeah, damn right we do," Sam ran a hand through his hair, his mind already working on it. "I'll go wake up Melody. She'll be really pissed."

Sam rushed out the door, leaving Dean with all the flashbacks that were coming back to him now. He'd been so freaking stupid to let her go like that. He'd let his guard down now and let her get to him. But that almost kiss, dammit, that almost kiss had felt so much like a goodbye, like a farewell, that he'd been so taken aback by it his mind had stopped working for good. All he could think about was how badly he wanted to just grab her and make her stay there, with him. And his instincts kicked in a little too late and next thing he knew, she was gone.

Sam running back into his room brought Dean back from his thoughts. His brother was panting.

"Mel," he breathed. "She's gone, too."

"What?" Dean stood up quickly.

"Melody left, too. What the hell is going on?"

"I don't get it," Dean exclaimed. "Emma left alone. Melody was in her room when I ran into her."

"She must've gone after Emma afterwards," Sam guessed. "How could we have lost them both? And what were they thinking?"

"I don't know," Dean ran his hands over his face desperately. "But we gotta find 'em, Sammy."

They went to search their rooms for any clues of where they'd gone, past the point when they'd have any boundaries. All of their things were there, their clothes, everything, which meant they either planned to come back safe and sound, or they didn't plan to come back at all. Not alive, at least. The boys tried to shrug the thought off. The girls had come to mean so much for each of them in different ways, but more similar than either of them knew.

"Have you tried to track their phones down?" Dean asked his brother as they made their way to the library.

"First thing I tried. But they're not stupid, Dean, they turned off their GPS."

Dean paced back and forth in the library, trying to come up with a way to find them. They might've been experts at finding people, but the Bennett sisters were experts at not being found.

"So what do we do?" Dean asked. "We gotta find them before they get themselves killed."

"I know, Dean, but what can we do? We can't just search every state in the country until we find them."

Dean slammed his fist into the table, breathing heavily. "If that's what it takes, I'll do it, Sam, I don't care. I ain't letting them die."

"Dean, I know. I know what's at stake. We'll find a way. Maybe—Maybe Cas knows something."

Dean scratched his jaw and nodded. "Yeah. Maybe he does. I'm sure the son of a bitch does. Emma knocked me out with some angely crap Cas used to pull off."

"It's a long shot," Sam sighed. "But it's all we've got. I'll see if I can track down Cas by his car license plate."

As Sam worked his magic with his laptop, Dean paced back and forth, feeling like he was slowly losing his mind. It was like he'd had what he'd wished for his whole life and it was now slipping through his fingers. That was it. Emma felt like sand right now. He'd been building sandcastles when he should've known better. Wasn't he a little too far gone to allow himself to do that anymore? Because if Emma was sand, wasn't he an hour glass?

It eventually turned out that they couldn't find Cas' car, so they spent the whole day following leads on how to get a hold of them, but none of them worked and they were now painfully frustrated. There was nothing more infuriating than just standing around, hoping a miracle happened and they'd find a way to get the girls back. But they were the Winchesters. Miracles didn't happen to the Winchesters.

It was pretty late. The sun had long since set and they still had jack squat on the girls. By now, it was all pure desperation. They were sitting there like statues, when Sam's phone beeped. They both jumped out of their chairs.

"What is it?" Dean asked.

Sam let out a shaky breath. "It's a voice message. From Melody."

He put the phone on speaker and set it on the table, pressing play on Mel's message.

"Sam," they heard Mel's shaky voice. "It's me. Look, I'm sorry I have to do it this way, but believe me, it's for the best. I don't trust myself enough to cope with it and I'm sure I would've turned it into a goodbye. And it's not a goodbye, I promise. This way, I'll have to come back to you. I'll find a way to make it back. But Emma has this crazy plan to close the angel portal for good and I found a way to help her. I have to do this, Sam, or she'll get herself killed. I've got so much stuff I need to say to you, Sam. But I'll save it for when I get back. So that I have a reason to." She paused for a few seconds then she inhaled sharply like she wanted to say something, but she changed her mind halfway through it. "See you soon."

The phone beeped, announcing the end of the message and neither of the boys spoke for a few seconds. Sam was kinda waiting for Dean to make a comment about the weight of Mel's words addressed to him, but they had more urgent stuff going on.

"The angel portal," Dean muttered, digesting the information.

A few seconds later, they looked at each other and said the words at the same time as the realization hit them.

"They're at the playground."

Turns out miracles did still happen to the Winchesters, too, after all.

When the Impala pulled over in the street by the playground, the fight was pretty much over. The portal was closed, there were only a handful of angels left who'd forfeited and had joined the opposing team, even though they weren't particularly happy about it, but with the portal closed, they were homeless and they valued their lives too much. The rogue angels, on the other hand, still had their numbers intact.

Cas had killed the angels who'd stabbed Emma mercilessly, and she was pretty fine now. The blade had missed any vital spots and her grace was already working on healing it. Sure, it still hurt like a son of a bitch, but at this point, she was beyond happy to have made it out alive and successful. The angels were really gone. Except for the rogue ones that Melody vouched for, and that she couldn't worry too much about now. The danger was gone, out of the picture. And no one had to die for it. She got to see Dean again.

When she realized that he and Sam were here, her heart stopped. He was here. Her Dean was here. She didn't even have to wait to see him, and he was here when she needed him the most. She could finally enjoy this. She smiled widely when he saw him rush to her, but something was wrong.

Something was terribly wrong.

She stood up, holding her side, which was throbbing with pain.

"Dean!" she cried, but she realized he wasn't really listening. He was looking though her. He stopped in front of her and caught her shoulders softly, so that he wouldn't hurt her, but with so much intensity he scared her.

"You're hurt," he stated fiercely.

"Dean—"

"You're hurt," he repeated, pulling out an angel blade. "Who did this to you?"

"An angel, but, Dean—"

He moved past her, breathing heavily and Emma could tell that this was the 'seeing red' thing he'd been talking about. He was in a really bad place right now.

"Who did this to her?" he raged, making Emma shiver.

She placed herself in front of him, ignoring the sharp pain in her stomach and pressing her palms against his chest.

"Dean! Dean, no! Dean, look at me!"

He was far gone. The edges of his eyes were turning black and his hand twitched around the blade. She knew he was inches from going all dark again, but she'd be damned if she let him lose himself again. She couldn't allow that. She couldn't lose him herself.

"Dean, look at me!"

But he didn't. He was breathing heavily, looking past her, and Emma was surprised he wasn't trying to move or push her away and, for a brief second, it occurred to her that maybe she was supposed to be afraid of him, scared for her safety. But she couldn't. Not of Dean. Never of Dean. However dark he went, she loved him. Dammit, she loved him so much and it felt so good to acknowledge it. It was surreal, but she let the feeling drown her because she. Loved. Him.

The sounds coming from the back of his throat were far from being human, but she still caught his face in her palms and caught his gaze, trying to see past the black smoke around his irises, reaching to her Dean, teaching him how to escape.

"Dean, please," she begged. "It's me. Emma. Please, Dean, come back to me."

Dean knew nothing but red. He saw nothing but red and red he was and he felt nothing but the need to kill. The smell of blood called to him, his hand twitched with the desire to rip flesh apart, to brutally end that bastard who dared to lie a hand on Emma. In fact, he didn't even care who he'd get to brutally end. As long as there was murder, he was fine with it.

But somehow, in the back of his head, he heard a voice. He wasn't sure who it belonged to. It sounded like a woman. She was crying. Begging. He heard his name. He decided to ignore it and go back to his murders, but he found that he couldn't. He was stuck. His body was shaking with adrenaline and blood lust, but in spite of those things, he felt his hand rise and reach forward until it met wet skin. A cheek, he realized. But why was it soaked? He heard sobbing whispers. That voice, that familiar voice. Why did it make his insides twist like that? Why didn't he just send the blade flying and finish that annoying whimper? He took his hand back and finally realized what the wetness was. Tears.

"Dean," the voice whispered once more as two tiny hands cusped his.

Emma. The voice was Emma's. Emma.

"Emma," he whispered out loud and the red started to fade away, making room for her face.

Emma. She was hurt, bruised, she had cuts all along her face and her hair was a mess. But her eyes were still so kind, so vulnerable, so innocent. She was still unthinkably beautiful. And Dean finally understood what she had meant weeks ago when she told him about that anchor thing.

She was his anchor. There was no more room for red anymore because she had chased it all away. He found the beauty. It was all her.

He smiled a small, weak smile and caressed Emma's face softly before passing out.

Nobody witnessed the scene between Dean and Emma. Cas had gotten into military mode and was talking to the rogue angels. And in the heat of the moment, Sam forgot about everything else and rushed to find Melody, just to see that she was talking to Jace, the bartender from the other night. What the hell was he doing here? Sam felt his blood boil and took a moment to decide what to do about it. How was he supposed to react now?

Before he'd had any chance to react in any way, Mel saw him and her eyes widened.

"Sam," she cried. "What are you doing here?"

Jace scratched the back of his head awkwardly. "I'll leave you two to talk. Come find me before you guys head out, okay, Mel?"

Melody nodded and watched him step away, and then she turned to Sam.

"I got your message," Sam told her icily, taking Mel a little aback with his tone.

"Oh," she exclaimed, frowning.

"I keep asking you this, Melody, but what the hell were you thinking?" Sam threw his hands in the air. "You could've gotten yourself killed. Again!"

Mel sighed and decided to not give him the argument he was looking for and be the calm one this time. "I know, Sam. I know. But this wasn't some reckless childish game I played. This was—"

"No, but that's exactly what it was, Melody. Reckless and childish. From both of you. You could've at least gotten me and Dean to help you out. We were in this together. We had your backs, dammit."

Mel wanted to reason with him, but she knew he was too angry now to listen to reason. So she decided to let him get it out of his system and wait for her turn to speak.

"And that guy, the bartender?" Sam continued. "How the hell did you make the decision of trusting him more than you trusted us? More than you trusted _me_! You chose a complete stranger, and a stupid risk, over _me_! Do you have any idea what I've been through the whole day, Melody? Thinking I'd never get to see you again? Do you have any clue whatsoever how many times I talked myself out of the idea that I might have lost you? Do you h—"

Melody decided she couldn't let him go on and on about this and grabbed his collar, pulling him in for a kiss. A really passionate kiss. She crashed their lips together with a force amplified by the adrenaline of what they'd been through. It was messy and raw and he gasped with surprise at first but responded just as fierce. His hands went around her waist and her fingers drowned in his hair and the taste of Sam on the tips of her lips was enough to send Melody flying.

Eventually, they broke the kiss gasping for air and Mel rested her forehead on his, smiling widely as her hands dug into his shoulders to keep herself from falling.

"Shut up, Winchester," she told him, and he laughed shortly. "I'm here. You're here. It's over."

He nodded and leaned in for one more kiss, a little softer, but still as needy and desperate to drown in each other. Mel broke away a few seconds later, never letting go of his shoulders.

"Jace is an angel," she started to explain to him, her hands running up and down his arms. "A rogue angel. His name is Adriel. He found me and offered to help us lock the angels up in Heaven. It was a long shot, but it was all we had, Sam. I took a chance, and I took it good. We won."

Sam nodded again. Well, she was right.

"I'm sorry," he told her, grabbing one of her hands and planting a kiss in her palm. "I may have overreacted. But I've lost so much, Mel. I've lost everything and I lost my brother way too many times. I can't lose you. I just don't think I could survive losing you."

"Hey, hey," Mel placed a finger over his lips. "Stop talking like that. I'm here and I'm not going anywhere, okay? I'm here to stay. You won't lose me, Sam."

He kissed her lips shortly one more time. "Good. Because I love you."

Her eyes widened and gave a breathless laugh. "Sam—"

"You don't—" he began then cut himself off, laughing nervously. "You don't have to say anything. But with everything that happened, I don't think I could've gone another second without telling you. I—"

"Sam," Mel cut him off this time. "It's okay. I love you, too. God, I do. I love you. It's okay. I'm here. It's over. We'll be okay."

He nodded and forced himself to pull away. They had enough time to talk about this. They really did. They were fine and the fight was over and Mel was alive. That was all that mattered. They had time.

"I'll go check on Dean and Emma," he told Mel. "I'll see you later, okay?"

Mel nodded and beamed at him before he kissed her lips softly once more. As he walked away, she turned on her heels and headed towards Jace. She found him a few feet away, his arms crossed over his chest, a smug smile playing over her lips.

"So, blondie," he greeted her when he caught sight of her. "Good game. It was fun playing with you."

Mel rolled her eyes. "Sure, sure. Listen, Jace, or Adriel, or whatever your name is. I wanna thank you for this. We would've failed big time if it weren't for you."

Jace clicked his tongue. "It was a win-win situation, blondie. We weren't too fond of the guys with sticks up their asses, either. S'too bad the hero doesn't get the girl, though."

He shot her a half-smile and Mel blushed a little under the heaviness of his gaze. She decided against playing his game and commenting about it, so she let him stare for a few seconds. When she realized he wasn't going to say anything, she couldn't help but mock him a little.

"You have a lil something here," she told him, pointing to the corner of her mouth.

Jace frowned and tried to wipe his mouth with his sleeve, confused. "What?"

Mel smirked at him. "Some drool," she told him and watched his face fall.

"Ha. You funny little thing."

She chuckled and punched him lightly in the arm. Too bad the circumstances hadn't been more in their favor. They could've been great friends.

"Bye, Jace," she smirked at him and walked away, the last thing she saw of him being that smug smile as he raised two fingers to his forehead and saluted her.

**Hey, you guys! Hope you liked it! Don't forget to check out my Tumblr, for gifs and photos (supernatural-fanfictional). See you soon with the next chapter!**


	28. Chapter 27: Careless whisper

Dean remembered little of that night. Next to nothing, almost. It was all just some thick fog stained with flashes of guilt, and he had no idea what he even felt guilty for. His head was an endless maze and he had the feeling that he was getting lost a little too often. Lost within himself. It scared the shit out of him.

He slowly opened his eyes and only then did he realize he'd been passed out. He groaned and looked around. He was in the Impala, and Sam was driving it, his face expressionless. Dean struggled to remember what had happened. He had a vague recollection of the girls being okay, but his chest still tightened when he realized they were nowhere in sight.

Sam saw that he was awake and glanced at him with the corner of his eye. "Good to have you back, Dean."

Dean grunted. "What happened?"

His stomach twisted as he waited for Sam's answer. He could feel the Mark pulsate under his skin and he knew that this could mean nothing good. He was a freaking ticking bomb. He hoped to God he hadn't hurt anyone last night, because his memory was a complete blank. He was running out of time. The Mark was slowly and steadily taking over him.

"You don't remember?" Sam questioned, without looking at him. "You got pretty… heated up back there."

Dean ran his hands over his face in a gesture of pure desperation.

"Son of a bitch," he cursed. "Did I—"

"No, no," Sam responded before Dean even had a chance to form the question in his head. "Nothing happened. No one was hurt. Emma told me you managed to pull yourself together, and by the time I got there, you were already passed out."

Bits and fragments started to come back to Dean. Emma. She had pulled him back from it. Knowing that she was there for him had been enough to get him away from that edge. He remembered that he'd gotten so mad that someone had hurt her that—

"Emma," he gasped, as the memories flowed. "She was hurt. Is she okay?"

"Yeah, she's fine. She and Melody are right behind us. Cas stayed behind with the angels that were left back here, trying to figure out how they'll handle things next."

Dean slammed his fist against the dashboard, feeling his blood boil. "What the hell were they thinking? They could've gotten themselves killed so easily! Why the hell would they leave us behind?"

"Dean—"

"No, Sam," Dean fumed. "I'm glad they're okay, I am. But they could've come to us. They _should _have come to us. Instead, Emma knocked me out and left me behind. And she was going to sneak out, Sam. Without even seeing me first. She bailed on me."

He felt Sam studying him, but he was too angry to pay attention to that and he was trying too hard to get a hold of himself. Finally, he heard Sam sigh.

"Are you sure this whole thing is about the girls not coming to us for help and jumping into the fight head first?" he questioned Dean. "Or about Emma?"

Dean looked straight forward, eyes fixated on the road. "What about Emma?"

"Dean," Sam prompted.

"Okay, fine," he snapped. "You're right. Yeah, it is about them both leaving us behind. But with Emma, it was like a kick in the guts. I don't wanna talk about it."

Sam was silent for a few seconds and Dean could practically feel his concern fill the air in the car before his brother spoke. "Okay. No talking about it. But you should talk about it with her. Settle things once and for all, before—"

He trailed off when he realized what he was saying, but Dean wasn't stupid. He knew what Sam wanted to say. It was all like a cloud hovering above them and it had been for a while now. The big elephant in the room. With the angel business gone, they couldn't really ignore it anymore, could they?

"Before I lose control and go full-time evil again?" he continued Sam's sentence bitterly. "Yeah, I know."

"Dean, that's now what I—"

"No, but you're right, Sammy. We can't overlook that anymore. I'm on a freaking countdown. You know what happened tonight. Hell knows how long we've got until I won't be able to snap out of whatever this thing on my arm gets me to do."

Sam sighed. "That's true. We need our priorities straight. The girls are now safe and the angels are gone. Priority number one becomes getting rid of the Mark asap. You just gotta find a way to keep that under control until we figure out how to remove it."

But Dean was feeling like every ounce of self-control he had slip away. He had the means to keep under control. He now knew what it took. It was Emma. Always Emma. He remembered how she'd once told him to find an anchor, to find something to hold on to, to keep him sane. And then she'd told him how he needed to see beauty in order to stop seeing red. And she'd slowly build her way to him to such extent that she'd become his anchor because she represented all the beauty she needed to chase away the red by being not only breathtakingly beautiful, but also by how beautiful and pure her soul was. She was all those things to him. She was his medicine. But now that he was so mad at her, he wondered for how long he could keep up all these defenses. He wondered for how long his anchor could keep him from sailing on, hitting that iceberg and sinking deeper than he'd ever been.

They arrived at the bunker before the girls and waited for them at the library. Dean was hyper aware of everything that was going on around him and inside of him. He felt his heart pound against his chest, his lungs constrict as his breaths were getting heavier and his mouth go dry from all the words hanging over his tongue. He felt the tension in the air, Emma's presence growing closer and how loud the silence was when the girls walked into the library.

"Hey," Mel broke the ice and shot a smile in their direction. She and Sam had been over the whole fight about him being left behind and they were good, Emma and Dean could see that.

"Hey," Sam returned her smile and electricity between them was so powerful it kept drawing them closer to each other. They eventually ended up with intertwined fingers, which earned them wide eyes and raised eyebrows from their siblings, but they weren't in the mood for explanations, so with a quick glance, they agreed to subtly remove themselves from the picture.

Mel cleared her voice. "Well, you guys clearly have a lot to talk about, so we'll just take off now."

"But you guys—" Emma tried to say, demanding an explanation for their sudden affection, but Sam cut her off.

"We can talk about this tomorrow. We'll leave you two now. Good night."

And they disappeared around the corner, leaving Dean and Emma not only in a heavy, deafening silence, but also insanely confused.

"That was weird," Emma commented, with an awkward smile on her lips, as she rubbed her hands together uncomfortable. She had no idea what to expect of Dean. To say today had been crazy would've been an understatement. She had left this morning expecting to never see him again. She had not seen it coming, that she'd ever be put in the situation of explaining herself to him. Nor had she expected to face him after having to pull him out of a dark trance that had scared the shit out of her. Not that she'd ever tell him that.

"I'm trying really hard," Dean started, smiling nervously and bitterly, in a low, terrifying voice, "to not yell right now. To be an adult about this. But you should probably know that I feel a very compelling need to. Yell at you, that is."

Emma rolled her eyes. "You want me to say I'm sorry? Because I won't. I won't apologize for the fact that we made it and that you guys are safe."

"I don't—" he trailed off, closing his eyes to regain his composure. "I don't want you to freaking apologize, Emma. I don't want you to do anything right now. Because you clearly have no clue how this whole thing made me feel. How badly this whole day messed me up."

Emma gasped and shook her head incredulously. "_I_ have no idea how it made _you_ feel? Dean, I lived through today willing to die, thinking I would never get to see you or my sister ever again. Don't you talk to me about messed up."

"No, but let's talk about messed up," Dean raised his voice, making Emma flinch. "Let's talk about how I had to go through this day thinking I'd never see you again, too. Let's talk about this, should we? And what good did it do, Emma? To what end? You were both stupid. Melody for teaming up with some fishy angels, but you… You walked in there expecting nothing less than to get killed. You were damn lucky to make it out alive. Not once, not for one second did you stop to question who you left behind."

"How can you say—" Emma began to argue back, feeling the tears sting her eyes.

"Me!" he shouted, cutting her off. "Me, Emma. You left me behind! You ever thought about that? It pulled me over the edge, Emma! It nearly threw me over the damn edge. _That's_ how much power you have over me."

She couldn't reply to that. She couldn't stand the idea of being the reason why he's almost turned dark, even if she'd been the one to pull him back again from that edge. So when she felt like she couldn't hold back the tears, she turned on her heels and stormed off the library, refusing to let him see her cry.

"Emma!" she heard him call after her, but she didn't stop until she reached her room.

She walked in and slammed the door behind her, and that's when she let the tears flood out. She leaned on the door and let herself fall to the ground, her back against the cold wooden frame.

Dean followed her shortly, just to feel the door slam in his face. He wasn't sure, but he suspected she was still leaning against it, and he could swear he heard small sobbing. And it killed him. He'd been way out of line back there, talking to her like that. She didn't deserve it. He knew she had done what she'd thought was best in order to protect everyone, and how could he judge her for risking her life to save those she loved most when he and Sam had so much history of doing that themselves?

But the rage… The rage was unbearable. He felt himself like a tiny white dot in a sky covered in smoke. And she was the only one keeping that one dot into place. It was all shaky and blurry and uncertain, which is why the prospect of losing her was nothing he could handle. Not now. Not ever.

"Emma," he whispered, knocking once on her door.

She didn't answer. The small sobbing stopped and Dean's heart sunk a little. He rested his hands and his forehead against the door, closing his eyes in desperation.

"Emma, please," he begged, breathing heavily. "Please, open the door."

They were both trapped. Trapped on different sides of the same door, trapped on different poles of the same magnet that drew them together. Knowing that the other one was just one wooden door apart drove each one of them absolutely and utterly insane, hungry and desperate for sinking into that feeling that they both longed for, but also too damn scared to take that leap.

Emma heard him. She heard his head hit the door and she felt his weight against it.

"Leave," she got herself to say. "I can't see you, Dean. Go away."

Was there a right way to tell him? Was there a right phrase to let him know she had just grown to love him too much, so much it physically damaged her? Was there any way to open this door and face the other side of it properly? Was there any way to be the right kind of thing Dean needed to see on this side of the door?

"Please," Dean begged again. "I'm an idiot, I know. Please open the door. I have to see you. I have to see as much of you as I can, Emma, so that I remember you're alive. Open up."

Was there a way to make her understand that? Were there any words good enough to explain to her how badly he needed to have her before his eyes so that he could remind himself that she was his only string of light at the moment? Was there a right way to let her know that without freaking her out?

He flinched and stepped a little backwards when he felt the door crack open. His breath caught in his throat as the door widened and he saw Emma lean against the door frame, looking so fragile and small, it broke his heart.

"Emma—"

"Don't you dare blame this on me, Dean," she cut him off, wiping her wet cheeks and pulling herself together. "Everything I did, I'd do it again. In a heartbeat. It was the right thing to do. Even if it had gotten me killed."

"I know," he whispered, taking a step towards her and wiping a tear away with his thumb.

"And I'm sorry I pushed you over the edge," her voice cracked a little.

"You didn't."

"But I'm here. We're all okay. I'm alive, and you're still you. I'm here to remind you you're still you, Dean, because I love you," she broke down, bursting into tears, unable to hold it in any longer.

Dean moved even closer and took her in his arms like he should've done long ago, from that very first time when he had thought about kissing her after patching her up, from that time when he had had her so close, that night when they were dancing, and he had let her go, or from this morning when he hadn't been able to stop her from leaving.

But he wrapped his arms around her now. He put his cheek next to her wet cheek and ran a hand through her silky hair, breathing her sweet scent. And she clung to him so tightly, he felt like she was trying to hold the tiny pieces of himself together. He pulled his head back just a little, so that he could press his lips over hers, finally.

He felt Emma gasp against his lips and melt into his arms. This was the most intense moment either of them had ever lived. Time had stopped and they felt too human to even be able to fully understand what was happening to them. Nothing else existed but hands and lips and quickened, shallow breaths and eyelids fluttering closed and every ounce of love they dared to feel was being poured out into that kiss, only for them to realize that the more they poured, the more they had. It was like their hearts were constantly expanding to make room for every emotion the other one shared.

The kiss was soft and gentle, and Dean touched Emma like she was made of porcelain. Like this night was all they had. Without breaking the kiss, he walked her backwards into her room and closed the door behind them.

Sam and Melody walked down the hallways hand in hand. They could vaguely hear Dean and Emma argue, but even if they weren't so drunk on each other, there was nothing they could do about it. This was their problem to solve.

They reached Melody's door and stopped.

"Well," he chuckled nervously. "We had quite the day, didn't we?"

Mel smiled and looked up at him, beaming. "We did. But I'd say tomorrow looks pretty promising."

He laughed and gently caressed her cheek with his thumb. "It does. It really does. And I'm looking forward to it."

He leaned in and placed a small, soft kiss on her lips. He couldn't get enough of her and had it been for him, he would have never let her go of his arms, but they had all the time in the world for that. He'd enjoy every bit of her.

"Goodnight, Melody," he whispered against her lips, before moving away.

"Goodnight, Sam."

**Hey guys! Hope you liked this chapter! Don't forget to check out my Tumblr for more pictures and gifs (supernatural-fanfictional). Lots of love, xoxo.**


	29. Chapter 28: How to save a life

Dean woke up in the morning in a stranger bed. He didn't know whose. He didn't really care. He turned around to see a bare back next to him, chestnut hair spread over the pillow. He had a vague feeling that the girl lying next to him should've meant something to him, that the sight of her should've stirred something inside him. But he couldn't recall. When you're dead inside, nothing moves. Emptiness doesn't stir.

He got out of the bed and put his clothes on absent mindedly. He tucked his gun into the belt of his jeans and an angel blade inside his jacket. He wasn't entirely sure what was going on with him and what situation he was walking away from, but all he knew was he had to get out of there asap.

He turned his back on the girl lying in bed, whose name he remembered was Emma, without a second glance. He had no interest whatsoever in her. As he walked out, he caught sight of a mirror. He frowned a little at his own reflection and he got a little closer.

Huh. Would you look at that, he thought.

His eyes were onyx black. Fully black. Demon black.

He was back.

He shrugged. It made no difference to him anyway. For whatever was worth, darkness just gave him a sense of weightlessness he had missed. He had missed not caring. Felling was overrated anyway, it was an unnecessary burden.

He got out of Emma's room into the hallway. There was no one in sight, which was good, because it only meant his way out was clear. He would've hated to run into Sam and deal with his healing crap theories once again, or to have Emma wake up and make a scene. He tried to step lightly, silent as a cat, and he had almost made it when just around the corner, he ran into the other chick.

"Dean," she shrieked, chuckling.

Melody, was it? Yeah, this one's name was Melody. He remembered that because she was supposed to be his double stunt. His copycat. But that was sort of absurd, considering she was insanely pathetic and weak.

"Did you just come out of Emma's room?" she questioned him, narrowing her eyes playfully at him. "Did you guys spend the night?"

He didn't have time for this. He had to get out.

"You okay there, pretty eyes?" she poked him with a finger and smiled warmly at him. Warmly. Disgusting. "You seem a little off."

Yeah, he really didn't have time for this. The time or the mood. It wasn't personal. It was more of a matter of circumstance. The girl had had the bad fortune of being in the wrong place at the wrong moment.

He pulled out the angel blade from under his jacket. He barely saw the girl's eyes widen a little and a short gasp escape her lips before he drove the blade through her chest.

"Dean," she whispered breathlessly, and Dean twisted the blade inside her until strings of blood started to roll down from the corners of her mouth.

He kept twisting the blade, hearing her insides snap under its edge, and he found such satisfaction in it that he physically felt the black smoke darkening his eyes and he knew, from the look on Melody's face, that the last thing she saw, before falling into oblivion, were his black eyes.

"No offense, Rapunzel," he smiled maliciously at her before he let her limp body fall to the ground.

He wiped the blood off his angel blade on his sleeve and tucked it back inside the jacket, stepped over Melody's body careful not to get the blood on his boots and walked away without as much as a look over his shoulder.

Melody hadn't been able to get much sleep that night. Everything that was happening to her felt just so surreal. Almost too good to be true. For the first time in what felt like edges, even though she knew their life was still far from being perfect, she felt safe and she felt happy. The biggest threat was out of the picture and she'd been there to save the day and Emma's life, graceless as she was. And she had Sam.

Sam was the best thing to have happened to her in her whole life. And she had the feeling that Emma and Dean were pretty much headed the same path. She definitely hoped so. It was about time that the Bennett sisters got their fair share of what they deserved. Of what they'd earned.

It was dawn when she got out of the bed, sleeplessness winning over her once again. She went into the kitchen to have a glass of water and was on her way back to her room when she ran into Dean. Coming out of her sister's bedroom. Oh, yeah. Definitely headed on that path.

She smirked to herself and teased Dean about it, but she noticed he was really off. She'd have expected more radiating, more beaming, more smiling and more smugness. But he seemed completely absent, empty-eyed and straight-faced. She sensed something was wrong with him and decided to get to the bottom of it so that Emma would wake up to things well set up. She'd be damned if she'd let this little drop of happiness slip between her fingers, slick son of a bitch.

She questioned Dean about it, trying to sound as casual as possible. "You okay there, pretty eyes? You seem a little off."

Dean looked to his left. He looked to his right. He rubbed his jaw.

Melody never saw it coming. She would have never been able to see it coming. But she felt its blow. It was a mere second, really. She wasn't even entirely sure what was going on. But she felt it.

She let out a small gasp and her eyes widened when the sharp pain in her abdomen registered. She was vaguely aware of her fingers wrapping around two hands, a blade, maybe, but she was having a hard time focusing on any other part of her body than the throbbing in her stomach or on anything else than the green eyes in front of her that were identical to hers.

"Dean," she whispered softly. But those eyes… It was like looking into a mirror. It was disconcerting. And endlessly confusing. This was Dean. Her twin soul. Her best friend. The only friend she really knew.

His hand that held the blade twitched and Melody felt her insides twist along with it and two small droplets of blood escaped from the corners of her mouth. Everything hurt. She felt the length of the blade tearing flesh apart, she heard vital organs tear apart and she felt its tip against her spine, snapping it.

But the worst of all, she saw how much Dean was enjoying it.

Her vision was turning blurry, but through the fog she saw the smoke in his eyes.

Oh, was her last thought before he pulled out the blade and let her body fall to the ground.

"No offense, Rapunzel," she heard him say to her, then he stepped over her limp body and left her there, lying on the floor, dying.

Because she was excruciatingly aware of the fact that she was dying. It pissed her off that, because of Emma and her med talk, she could basically name the steps. Internal bleeding. Vital damages. Massive hemoragy. At this rate, she was going to bleed out soon. Her circulation was already being centralized to her heart and brain, and she felt her heart rate slow down and her senses were oddly awake. She felt herself dying from the inside out.

And she was cold. She was so terribly cold. This was the worst. When she thought about dying, she'd always imagined she'd go down swinging, guns blazing, and that she'd either go quick and painlessly, or linger enough to say her goodbyes. She wasn't granted either of those. She only had minutes left, if so. And she was dying alone. Cold. And death had found her unprepared. Because death had such a fucked up sense of humor.

And she didn't get to say her goodbyes.

She closed her eyes and drew in a painful breath. Here goes nothing, she thought. It was like drifting off to sleep. You doze off. And then you slip into oblivion. Always so sure you'll wake up.

Her last thoughts went to the people she loved most. She thought about how Emma and Sam would feel when they got out of their rooms and found her dead body lying on the floor. She thought about how amplified that heartbreak would be when they realized that she had died at Dean's hand. She thought about how Emma would beat herself up for not having found Mel earlier and maybe having been able to save her life. Oh, yeah, Emma would definitely find a way to blame herself. It wasn't right that Emma got to lose two people she loved today. Her little sister, and the man she loved.

But Sam lost two people today, too. On the same pattern. His brother had killed the girl he loved.

It was just so unfair, Mel put a thought on her last breath. She'd been happy. She'd been free. She'd had it all. And now she had nothing. She was nothing.

Tired of holding on and sad, she let that last breath out.

Sam woke up with a start. He hadn't been able to rest that well throughout the night. He kept thinking how close he'd come to losing her and how he'd nearly lost his mind over it. He kept counting the minutes until he'd have her standing before him again, until he'd be able to read into her eyes or pull her into his arms. Because it wasn't like he intended on letting one more day pass by without loving her and making sure she knew that. Not when he knew how fragile the ground they stood on was.

It was still pretty early when he decided he wasn't going to get any more sleep. He sighed, got out of bed and threw on a T-shirt, then he got out of his room still yawning, heading towards the kitchen. Maybe he'd cook Mel some breakfast. Yeah. Yeah, that'd be nice, he decided. She'd love it so much. He knew it was a little selfish of them to behave like everything was right with the world again just because they'd gotten rid of one of the many threats they were up against. But for the simple fact that in a world of wrongs, Mel was the only thing that was right, he was grateful and he wanted to act upon that feeling.

But as he turned around the corner, his walls shattered. He frowned a little, not understanding the picture entirely at first. There was a lot of red. And a figure on the floor. Something yellow, blonde, maybe, spread over….

His eyes widened and his knees went weak. Melody.

He lunged forward and his heart beat to the sound of her name. Mel. Mel. Mel. No. No. No.

He reached her side and his breath caught in his throat when he realized that all that blood was hers. A pool of blood. His hands were shaking as he pulled her in his lap, her body limp in his arms and her skin ice cold.

"No, no, no," he kept repeating. "No, no, Mel, no. Please, God, not her."

He didn't know what to do. How to react. He was in shock. Because there was no way this was really happening. None whatsoever. Because if it were, then the universe was really sick. But it couldn't be, because this wasn't happening.

"Come on, Mel," he begged, unreasonably. "Come on. Breathe. Just breathe for me. Come on, Mel open your eyes."

The realization was beginning to sink in and he felt the tears. Those tears. Always the same, they always tasted the same. Like loss. Like abandonement. Like loneliness and grief. Not his Mel. Not his Mel. Why his Mel?

"Mel. Come back. Please. It's okay. You're okay. Please wake up. Don't be dead. Don't do this to me. Don't do this to me. I love you so fucking much. Come back to me."

But her eyes never opened. She didn't breathe. She wasn't okay. She didn't okay. She wasn't coming back to him. She was dead.

Emma was woken up by some noise in the hallways. She groaned and rolled over to her side, and she realized she was alone.

Huh.

She wondered if last night had been a dream, now that Dean was gone. Could it be? She—

She couldn't focus on that because the noise in the hallway grew louder and it sounded like Sam. She worried that something might have happened, so she threw some clothes on herself and decided to deal with Dean later. She already knew it was going to be complicated, so why bother now? It was never simple with them. This was part of why she loved him.

She got out of her room and went around the corner. That corner. That corner of the bunker that held the mark of so much tragedy today. The corner where death awaited.

Emma let out a shriek when she saw Sam on the floor, lying there covered in blood, crying and holding Melody's limp body in his arms.

"Emma—" he began, between sobs. "Mel—"

"What happened, Sam?" she asked sharply, unable to move.

"Mel—"

"What happened to Mel, Sam?" she yelled at him, rushing at her sister's side without waiting for him to offer an explanation.

She pulled her sister's body out of his arms and lied her on the floor face up, discovering her chest.

"No, no, no," she kept muttering to herself as desperation cloaked in, but denial pushed it away.

She quickly took in the scenery, trying to come up with a plan. First aid. Heavy bleeding. She tried to find Mel's pulse, but she couldn't find any. Okay, deal with the bleeding later, restart her heart first.

"No, no, no," she kept repeating.

"Emma—" Sam called out, but she wouldn't listen.

"Shut up, Sam. Just—Just shut up. No, no, no. Mel."

She placed her hands one on the top of the other one and started pumping. One, two, three.

"No, no, no," she still repeated with every move that made Mel's chest descend in failed attempts of resuscitating her.

"Emma, you can't—"

"No," she repeated, louder this time, and she realized she was crying. For the first time, it occurred to her that she was being unreasonably fighting and a hopeless battle that was already lost, but she couldn't afford thinking about that. No. "No, Sam. I can. I won't lose her. What happened to her?"

She was already sobbing, still massaging Mel's chest. She felt her cold and still under her palms, but she couldn't let go. Not when she knew what it meant. Letting go of the CPR meant letting go of her sister. And she couldn't lose her. She wouldn't.

"Emma—" Sam kept trying, crying himself.

"What happened to my sister, Sam?" she shrieked, hysterically by now.

Sam caught Emma's wrists and tried to pull her away, but she shoved him away.

"Let go of me! What happened to Mel? Tell me, Sam!"

Sam caught her wrists again and even though, she still fought back, he felt her growing weaker.

"What happened to Mel, Sam?" she sobbed, and her hands slowed down. She brought them a little up, covered in blood and shaking, and her breathing raced and became troubled. She tried to pull herself together. "W-What happened to—"

"Em—" Sam put his hands over hers to stop her from seeing them like that. "She—"

Emma began to shake her head violently. "N-No, don't say it. Don't say that. Sam. Sam, what happened? Sam, Mel—"

Sam wrapped his arms around her and pulled her at his chest, and they cried together, covered in Melody's blood, over her lifeless body.

"What happened to Mel, Sam?"

"She's gone, Em," he brought himself to say it, but Emma didn't listen. Or didn't want to hear.

"My sister, Sam. What happened to my sister?"

"She's gone."

"What happened to Mel, Sam, who did this thing to her?"

That, Sam didn't know the answer to. He, they couldn't think about that now. Not yet. Without Mel, they couldn't really think about anything else. And as the feeling of being without her sunk in deeper and deeper, their worlds became darker and heavier. But the question still lingered. Who had done this to Melody?

They heard footsteps near them, but neither looked up. Neither could look anywhere else but Mel's frozen face, still like a sculpture. Like she was asleep. Just never waking up.

The footsteps grew closer and closer and they were vaguely aware of it until they saw the bottom hem of a trench coat and they finally looked up to see Cas standing there, the saddest look on his face.

"I wasn't fast enough," he told them. "I saw him leave and I knew what was going on with him, but I couldn't catch him."

Emma and Sam jumped on their feet, fierce looks glued on their faces.

"You know who did this to her?" Emma whispered in a low, terrifying voice, between tears.

Cas looked confused for a minute, but then he realized that Sam and Emma didn't know yet.

"Emma," he spoke carefully. "It was Dean. He's a demon again."


	30. Chapter 29: Thanks for the memories

_I'm here. You're here. It's over._

_You won't lose me, Sam._

_I'm here to stay._

_It's okay. I love you, too. God, I do. I love you. It's okay. We'll be okay._

_I'd say tomorrow looks pretty promising._

"_Goodnight, Melody." "Goodnight, Sam."_

Gone. She was just gone. There was nothing more left behind. It was like she had never been there and now all they had was sheer emptiness. A hole. A hole in their hearts. An empty seat in the library. An empty room full of her things. Empty, soundless hallways. Wild screaming in their heads. Melody was gone.

Emma, Sam and Cas stood in the empty field, watching Melody's body slowly go down in flames. Hunter's burial. Emma hadn't had the energy to veto that choice. She didn't agree to burning down her little sister, but what difference did it make? None. It didn't matter. She was still dead. As dead as could be, and Emma was all alone.

None of them spoke. They were numb. None of them cried, their eyes way too dry by now. Emma and Sam had spent over half a day mourning over Mel's dead body, until, eventually, the tears stopped. They were too tired to cry anymore.

_I'm here. You're here. It's over._

_You won't lose me, Sam._

_I'm here to stay._

How could she make promises she couldn't keep? It wasn't over. It was never over for them. Sam had been an idiot to think otherwise. It had been so easy to let themselves slip into that blissful ignorance they had chosen, letting it drown them, when he, for one, should have known better. Instead, she wasn't here. It wasn't over. He had lost her. And she hadn't been able to stay. None of that was true.

_It's okay. I love you, too. God, I do. I love you. It's okay. We'll be okay._

He wasn't okay. And she was dead.

_I'd say tomorrow looks pretty promising._

Tomorrow was here now. And it had never looked darker. This tomorrow held the power of making a hell hound squeal like a puppy. This tomorrow didn't have her in it. This tomorrow had begun in flames.

"_Goodnight, Sam."_

It's funny, how when you lose someone, you keep going over what you never said and would never get to say again. It's depressing, devastating and sadistic, but you do it anyway. Sam kept thinking about how his last words to her could have been more loaded, more intense, more than a simple goodnight. He kept thinking about their last kiss, about how her taste had stayed on his lips the whole night, and how, if he focused hard enough, he could still picture her warmth. But he knew the drill. Those things faded. He already hated himself for those times when his brain would be unable to still picture it all so lively. Memories end up being all you have, and they're a shitty reassurance.

"_Goodnight, Sam."_

There was nothing good about it. Out of the only good he'd ever known, half was dead, and the other half was the one who'd killed it.

The bunker felt suddenly too large, too silent. There was just the three of them, sitting quietly. Everything else was nothing but a pile of ashes and the screech of the Impala tires against the pavement. Emma and Sam were each other's reflection, a motionless picture of numbing pain, loss and grief.

It bothered Cas so much to see them like this. Melody's death had been so unpredicted and so violent and he could tell that both of them were now beneath rock bottom, way buried under the lowest they'd ever been. And there was nothing he could do to ease that pain they felt. But maybe, just maybe, if they could just see how badly they needed to pull themselves together and find the strength to keep going now, while there was still something that could be fixed.

"Sam, Emma," he began sheepishly, not knowing the best way to approach the matter. "Can I speak with you for a moment?"

Neither of them spoke. They both wore a blank expression on their faces and emptiness in their eyes, their gazes fixated on a random point on the floor as their bodies remained glue to the chairs in the library. They hadn't moved or spoken in hours, and they didn't answer now either, so Cas presumed he just had to go on with it and hope it got a reaction out of them.

The angel cleared his throat. "I understand your grief. Losing Melody was truly a tragedy and I understand that you both need time for mourning."

"I don't think you do," Emma whispered in a broken voice, without focusing her gaze or looking up as she spoke. The way she sounded scared Cas even more than when she wasn't talking at all.

"I'm sorry," he sighed, genuinely apologetic. "And while I know how hard it is, there are still issues that require our immediate attention."

"See, I told you you don't understand," she whispered back, cutting him off, a single tear escaping her left eye while she smiled the saddest half-smile, full of bitterness and regret. "I don't care."

Cas sighed and turned to Sam. "Sam, please. This is about Dean. If we hurry up, there's still a chance we can fix it."

Sam didn't show any sign that he had heard him, but Cas didn't let it go. If they wanted to bring Dean back, he had to make them snap out of it.

"Sam," he insisted. "I acknowledge Emma's pain. She has lost not one, but the two people she loved today. But I turn to you. Your loss can be remedied. We can get Dean back."

Sam snapped, slamming his hands against the table and making Emma flinch. She and Cas could tell that his anger was now palpable, like it had boiled under the surface all along and all that pain was just regurgitating.

"My loss can be _remedied?" _he fumed, breathing hard and making no effort whatsoever to hide how close to tears he was. He jumped off his chair, standing up. "Screw you, Cas. You don't get to call our casualties. I loved Melody. And I lost her, too."

He didn't wait for reactions to his outburst, turned on his heels and rushed out of the library. The air was filled with tension and the realization hit Emma like a full speed train. Sam had it as bad as she did. She'd never known the extents of his relationship with Melody, but when she died, she hadn't just deprived Emma of her little sister. She had deprived Sam of a shot at loving her.

Cas sighed awkwardly, his eyes troubled. "I'm sorry," he repeated, watching Emma. "I wasn't aware of how close they were."

"Save it, Cas," Emma waved him off, tired. "Nothing you say could make it better. Nothing could make it better, period. Just—Just stop making it worse."

She got on her feet and followed Sam out of the library, too exhausted to feel anything at all. Her chest was numb. She felt like crying, she felt her throat tighten every now and then, but the tears never came anymore. She wanted nothing more than throw herself on her bed and curl up, cry herself to sleep, but her bed now smelled like Dean. Her clothes stained with Melody's blood still lied tossed in a corner of her room.

She paused in the middle of the hallway, pondering where to go next. She'd never felt so pointless, so deprived of every sense of direction.

Without even realizing, she found herself standing in front of Sam's room. She brought up her fist and knocked twice then opened the door and walked in, not bothering to wait for an answer.

She found Sam on his bed in perfect stillness, like a cold marble statue. The only thing moving was his chest, in struggled breaths, like he was suffocating. And maybe he was. She knew the feeling all too well.

"Cas didn't mean to hurt you," she dared to speak, not knowing how much longer she could just stand there, in the doorway, watching him drown within himself. It was like each one of them was feeding on the other one's pain, supporting their own. It was a vicious circle. Seeing him so pained just broke her heart even more.

"I know," Sam replied, not moving an inch. "I don't care."

Emma was silent for a few more seconds, no idea how to answer that.

"I had no idea," she tried eventually. "About you and Melody. I mean, I suspected it at some point, but I had no clue that you guys were actually a thing. Or that you felt so deeply for each other."

"Yeah, well," Sam answered emotionlessly. "It doesn't really matter, does it? She's gone. Just like everyone else."

Emma sighed and found the guts to rush by his side, crouching so that she could come into his view and gently rubbing his knee.

"Sam," she pleaded. "Don't do this to yourself. Don't look for a pattern. Patters are inches away from starting to blame yourself and—"

He jumped to his feet, rubbing his face and running his hands through his hair desperately.

"Would that be so absurd?" he yelled. "Every person I've ever loved is dead, Emma. I was aware of that, but I thought this time it'd be different. I thought we stood a chance. How's that not a pattern? How's that not stupid?"

"Oh, Sam," Emma tried to walk to him and put a hand on his shoulder, crying again already, but he stepped back.

"Ten years ago," he continued, shaking with his whole body. "The first girl I ever loved was killed. Jessica was the love of my life. Two years ago, I walked away from a woman because I didn't want her to end up on the same path. And then," he laughed humorlessly. "Then Melody showed up and I had no idea people were able to feel something so intense without their hearts exploding in their chests. Just to have her torn away from me, Emma. Her, too. And I don't think I can recover from that."

He slammed his fist against the wall, breathing heavily, unable to cry, and Emma just stood there, watching him, for several minutes, tears rolling down her cheeks lazily without her even realizing it.

"I never lost anyone," she whispered eventually, which made Sam turn around slowly and look at her. "My whole family was safe back in the U.K. All four of my grandparents are alive. Death was pretty much a myth."

Sam shook his head and frowned at her, his chest tightening when he realized where she was going.

"I still don't grasp it," Emma wrapped her arms around herself, trying to hold the pieces of herself together. "Melody's dead." Her voice broke and she started sobbing. "She's gone and I'm supposed to just know how to be alone."

Sam closed the distance between them and pulled her in his arms, letting themselves unload their pain on each other. They cried for minutes until Emma pulled away and wiped her tears away angrily.

"Sam, Cas is right," she whispered in a groggy voice. "We still have to talk about Dean. We've—We've lost Mel, but him, we can still get back."

Sam turned away from her, running his hands over his face.

"I can't talk about this right now," he mumbled.

"But, Sam, we have to. I know you don't want to focus on anything else right now, I feel the same way. We both feel pretty lost. But if Cas is right and there's still a way to save Dean, to bring him back, then we need to act on it. I'm not able to deal with losing them both."

Sam turned around abruptly, and Emma flinched a little at the hardness in his eyes.

"Did you stop for a second to think about what this means?" he asked her harshly, and Emma frowned at his tone.

"What does this mean?" she questioned.

"Emma, Dean's the one who killed Melody," he said bluntly and paused for a few seconds to let the words sink in, and he saw Emma retreat even deeper within herself and he hated to see her do that. "You thought about how it'd be to stand before him knowing that? Because I have. And I don't know how I'd take it."

"He's your brother," Emma murmured helplessly, clinging to that feeling, although she knew he was right. "And I love him."

Sam walked to her and placed his hands on her shoulders.

"I know. So do I. But the man you love and my brother drove a blade through the heart of the woman I loved and your sister. There's no changing that."

"He's not himself, Sam," she tried to use her last bit of strength to reason with him.

"I know that, too. But do you trust yourself enough to be able to make that difference when you see him again?"

She wanted so badly to tell him that she would. That she'd look into his endlessly green eyes and she'd knew that they were black when he took away half of Emma's heart. That her Dean was nothing like demon Dean. But the words never came. Because the eyes were never his, but the hands that were stained with Melody's blood were.

Sam took her silence for an answer.

"I thought so, too," he smiled sadly at her.

"So what do we do?" she questioned.

Sam sighed. "We wait. We come up with a plan for when we're ready. We try to live with it, and it won't be easy. It'll be like a leaking rooftop during a rainstorm. It'll never get easier. Let's just hope it gets bearable until it's too late for Dean."

**I know it's really short, but it's concentrated. I'm an awful person, I know.**

**Dare I suggest you check my Tumblr for pictures and gifs? (supernatural-fanfictional)**

**I'm sorry.**


	31. Chapter 30: 37

It's been weeks. 37 days without Melody. 37 days since they had last seen Dean. 37 days in which Sam and Emma had had to sort themselves out and find a way to keep going with no one else but each other to count on.

Cas was mostly gone. They had agreed that they weren't ready to face Dean just yet and that, for now, just keeping tabs on him, keeping track of him, was pretty much enough, yet that had turned out to be a little more difficult, seeing as he went missing entirely. So basically, up to this point, they still had no idea where he was or what he was up to, which is why Cas spent most of his time trying to dig up any kind of information on his location.

Emma and Sam had insisted that this wasn't entirely necessary yet. They weren't exactly ready to let go and move on. They were still on the part of figuring out how to mourn. After nearly six weeks, you'd think you'd fall out of that numbness and let the grief follow its drill. But they were still there. They were still numb.

Emma found herself standing in front of a closed door, in front of the same door that led to Melody's bedroom and she thought about how in 37 days, she hadn't shed another tear since her breakdown with Sam. There was nothing left in her but void, and instead of flooding her and spilling tears across her cheeks, the pain resonated. Melody's loss screamed inside her brain like an echo, amplified by Dean's, too. Emma had never felt so alone.

"Hey."

Emma flinched a little in surprise and turned around to face Sam. There were deep purple circles under his eyes that she was pretty sure reflected hers. There had been some sort of silent pact between them about sticking together and looking out for each other so that they didn't feel as alone, but each other's loss and loneliness worked like some sort of mirror for the other one, so they were pretty much on their own these days.

"Sam," she whispered in a broke voice. "You scared me."

He offered a small, sad smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Sorry," he murmured, and took a few steps towards her, towards the door. "I see you still haven't gone in. You're still here every morning."

Emma sighed and bit her lip, violently. 37. She'd stood here, in front of this closed door 37 times. Everything that Melody owned, everything she'd touched, everything she'd loved, was still behind that door. And she still didn't have it in her to even crack it open. She had no idea what she was even afraid of.

"I'll have to, eventually," she told Sam, more for herself than for him. "We'll have to."

Sam ran his hands over his face and Emma could see how utterly tired he was. She assumed he didn't get much sleep either. He placed his hand over her shoulder, and it was the first time in 37 days when she didn't feel quite as lonely.

"We will," he reassured her. "Just like we'll find Dean, and bring him back."

She felt her throat tighten and her lungs constrict painfully, so she just nodded, not trusting her voice to answer. Sam felt her stiffen and gave her shoulder a little squeeze.

"But not today," he continued. "It doesn't have to be today."

She nodded and smiled up at him, glad that they didn't have to deal with it just yet. So she places her hand over Sam's and walked away from that closed door for the 37th time.

Sam and Emma entered the library to find Cas there, waiting for them.

"Cas," Sam acknowledged him, without showing too much emotion. His presence didn't make that much of a difference now. Dean was gone. The angels were gone. He couldn't really go back to Heaven. And Emma was too heart-broken to care about anything at all.

"Hello, Sam," Cas greeted back. "Emma. I've brought news."

Emma sighed and threw herself on a chair, her head spinning and feeling endlessly dizzy these days.

"I've got the feeling that we don't really want to hear it," she told him sharply.

Cas looked at them pleadingly. "So I've figured. But I thought I should at least let you know that I found a lead. It isn't much, but I might be able to track it back to Dean's location. I am well aware of the fact that you have no intention of using such information, but it should still be in your hands."

Sam and Emma exchanged a glance. Their mixed feelings hadn't changed, just like the heaviness of Mel's absence wasn't getting any lighter. But they now had 37 made up reasons to stop blaming Dean. Not their Dean, anyway. The Mark of Cain's Dean was the one to blame and he was a different breed. The problem was, they still didn't feel clean enough to make that difference. Emma wasn't sure if she'd ever be able to hold his hand, even if she knew he'd be back to his old self, and not remember that his hand had driven that blade through Mel's heart.

"Not today," Sam repeated his earlier words, and Emma found the strength to shoot him a small smile.

Cas sighed, but knew better that to push it. He turned to Emma.

"How have you been feeling, Emma?" he asked her, and she looked at him taken aback by his question. "You look pale. And your aura glows awfully weak."

She shrugged. She knew something wasn't quite right about her physically as well, but she had just chosen to ignore it.

"I'm not sure," she admitted. "It's been going on for a while, but it's never been too much of an issue. I'm a little worn down, I guess. Kinda like the same I felt after I absorbed—"

She wanted to say Mel's grace, but her voice broke and she choked on the words. She wondered if it'd ever get easier. She assumed not.

Cas understood what she wanted to say, though, and he overlooked it.

"I feared this might happen."

"That what would happen?" Sam questioned him, crossing his arms over his chest.

"It's the angel grace," Cas explained. "It has served its purpose and it's now taking its toll. So much grace wasn't meant to be contained by a single person. It's overwhelming for your human body."

They all sat in silence, thinking through this information and figuring that at some point, they'd have to find a solution for it. Because Emma was pretty close to the point when she felt like she'd spontaneously combust.

"What about you, Cas?" Sam asked unexpectedly. "You've been working yourself up lately. With all the angel war and the searches for Dean, how's your grace problem? Yours must be fading by now."

Cas sighed, looking like he was considering whether to share this issue with them.

"It is," he said eventually.

"And what're you gonna do about it?" Sam asked. "There aren't too many angels around that you can get another one from."

Cas stood up and paced a little, standing with his back on them.

"I know that," he replied. "My powers are dying out. I don't think there's anything I can do about that. There isn't exactly too much grace lying around for me to claim."

"But there's gotta be something you can do," Sam pointed out. "We can't just—"

"Wait," Emma's eyes widened as realization hit her. "Rewind. Cas, what was that you just said?"

Cas turned around, frowning. "My powers are dying out."

"And after that?"

"That there isn't too much grace lying around for me to claim?"

"That's it," she exclaimed. "You've got your solution. You need grace, and I seem to have plenty to spare. So I'll just transfer some to you, and the problem's solved."

Sam and Cas looked at her, considering it.

"I don't know, Cas," Sam said eventually. "Seems like your only option. It might work."

"Yes, temporarily," he agreed. "But any grace that isn't mine will eventually wilt away. The damage is permanent. I am currently living against the clock."

"But what other choice do you have?" Emma argued. "You can't just wait around and shrug it off like fading away is no big deal, Cas."

The three of them stood there in silence for a few moments, when Sam decided to break it.

"There might be another way," he spoke, and Emma and Cas turned to him. "But neither of you will like it."

"Are you guys sure you wanna go through with this?" Sam asked Emma and Cas again.

He stood a few feet away from them and the two of them faced each other, taking deep breaths and trying to focus.

Sam's suggestion had been that, instead of Emma transferring grace to Cas temporarily, most likely repeatedly since he was about to run out of grace again anytime soon, she absorbed his grace. Of course, both of them had been instantly against this absurd idea, but then Sam explained it to them.

It really wasn't necessarily convenient for either of them at the moment. On the contrary, it affected them both negatively, since Emma was already replete with grace that was starting to burn her inside out once again, and Cas would be left a mere human when they needed his powers the most to track down and cure Dean. But on a long term, on the other hand, this may have turned out quite good.

Heaven was closed. Cas was pretty much alone down here, since he had chosen to stay with them because he wasn't exactly wanted up there, not alive anyway. And they were human, hence, mortal. Sam's throat tightened when he thought about how Mel had made quite a point about how fragile their lives were. So, since they were just passing through this life and would be gone eventually, Cas would be left entirely alone, with eternity ahead of him to roam the earth aimlessly. At least as human, he had a shot at growing old with his friends, and Sam explained to him how this idea was highly underrated. Eventually, Cas agreed that it was a pretty solid point.

In what concerned the part of Cas using his grace to track down and cure Dean, they just had to hope that Emma would be able to do that part.

"It's the best shot we have," Emma replied. "Let's get this over with."

Cas nodded and pulled out a small pocket knife that he used to make a small cut on his forearm. Emma braced herself in anticipation, remembering the excruciating pain that knocked her out when this had happened with Mel.

But it wasn't as bad. She saw the trick of light of the grace as it made its way to her, barely glowing. Cas must've really been in a terrible condition. But as it entered her body and added itself to the already existing grace, she felt her insides light up and cringed in pain. Sam rushed to her side, helping her to a chair.

"You okay?" he asked her, and she nodded wordlessly, too breathless to speak. At least she hadn't passed out this time, she told herself.

"Cas?" she managed to mumble at him.

He looked disoriented, but otherwise fine. He wasn't moving, standing there like a marble statue with an aimless look glued on his face.

"How do you feel, Cas?" Sam asked again, turning to him, but keeping a hand on Emma's shoulder protectively.

Cas looked around, giving no hint on his emotions. Sam and Emma assumed that these emotions had to overwhelm him in an overwhelmingly human way. They assumed he felt pretty empty without grace. But when Cas turned to them, his face looked surprisingly serene.

"Hungry," he answered.

38\. It was the 38th day. Emma still found herself in front of Mel's room. But something was different this morning. She felt different.

She had cried last night. A lot. She had cried herself to sleep. And she missed her sister harder than ever, but the pain was starting to cease making her feel out of breath. It was cleaner. But at least she knew not that it'd never get easier. She'd just eventually learn to live with it.

"Hey," she heard Sam's voice from behind her, for the 38th time.

She didn't turn around. "Hey, Sam."

"How're you holding up?" he asked her, and she shrugged.

"I think I'll survive," she answered genuinely, surprising herself by actually meaning it. "I think she'd kick my ass otherwise. Both our asses."

Sam chuckled lightly. "She would."

Their smiles faltered eventually as her absence still weighed upon them.

"Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"She'd probably want us to not give up on Dean, as well," Emma whispered timidly.

"She would," Sam repeated, and their eyes met halfway and they both knew what they had to do.

Emma's hand closed around the door knob of Mel's room and pushed the door open. It still smelled like her. And their chests still tightened. But one day, maybe later rather than sooner, they'd meet Mel again. In Heaven, hell, halfway, whatever. And they couldn't face her knowing that they'd sulked their whole lives and let Dean turn into a monster.

So they walked over that door step. They let Melody's smell drown them. They let a few silent tears slip away. They cleaned up the room, shoulder to shoulder, wrist to wrist, broken heart to broken heart. And they put together a plan to save Dean Winchester.

**I am terribly sorry for this awful delay in the update, I suck. And I'm also sorry that this chapter is so terribly short, but we're getting close to the end of the story and there isn't too much going on from here on. I hope you're still with me, with Emma and Sam, and with newly human Cas. **

**Don't forget to check my Tumblr blog (supernatural-fanfictional) for gifs and photoshopped pics! **

**Lots of love, xoxo.**


	32. Chapter 31: Soul of a man

Dean drew the angel blade through the demon's face, watching with a cruel satisfaction as he glowed his way into oblivion. And he didn't bat an eyelash while mercilessly doing it. He had stopped caring a while ago.

He pulled the blade out of that son of a bitch and wiped the blood off the sleeve of his jacket, then he turned to the only demon that was left out of the army Crowley had sent after his ass.

"I'm gonna let you go," Dean pointed the blade at him. The demon snarled at him, but Dean could tell that he stunk of terror. "You get to walk away so that you can deliver your boss a message from me."

The demon kept glaring and didn't say a word. Dean loved playing this game. For how feared they were across the world, demons were pathetic coward little creatures. They felt like mice at his mercy.

"I ain't nobody's messenger," the demon's eyes turned black as he bared his teeth at Dean.

Dean pursed his lips and shrugged. "Okay. I don't mind killing you."

He barely finished the sentence that his blade made its way through the demon's chest, and he glowed like a beacon before falling to the ground. That was such a shame, Dean thought. He never got around to actually keeping a demon alive long enough to deliver his message to Crowley. He lacked the patience and ended up killing them.

"Oh, shit," he muttered to himself as he took in the dead meat suit at his feet and tucked the angel blade inside his jacket. Maybe next time.

He made this way over the bodies across the alley and went inside the bar to finish the drink these morons had interrupted earlier.

He sat back in his seat, in front of his whisky like nothing had happened. And it really wasn't a big deal. He'd been doing stuff like that for a while now. As a matter of fact, he'd learned his lesson from his previous experience as a demon, and he wasn't one to sit around this time. He had the potential of doing some real wicked, twisted stuff, and he was gon' do it, alright.

But then why was it that, every time he killed, he kept seeing that one pair of hazel eyes?

It started the very first day after he left the bunker. He felt no remorse for killing Melody. Hell, the chick had it coming for standing in his way. But a couple hours later, as he drove the Impala down a road in the middle of nowhere, Emma's eyes popped into his head. It occurred to him how badly this would break her, the thought that he'd been the one to kill her sister. The idea hit him hard and took him by surprise, but he was quick to dismiss it. The least of his concerns was that chick. She and Sammy could weep together like the sissies they were.

But it kept happening.

He was pretty proud of his demonic self. He'd never felt more free, more at ease, more satisfied. Doing the right thing is tiresome. Doing the wrong thing after having done the right thing for so long was exhilarating. And he intended to make the very best of it. He couldn't be killed, so he had eternity to inflict pain and enjoy the hell out of it. But he couldn't get away from the phantom of Emma Bennett.

She was there, in the back of his mind, silently judging him, disapproving. She was haunting his sleep. She was taunting the joy of killing with stupid worthless memories. Dean often found himself trying to drink her away. It was the only thing that tormented this new exciting life he was living. The only shadow of a doubt that he had when it came to all the great plans he had for himself.

Not that it mattered. He pushed her away, down into the bottom of his weak conscience, if there was any, drowning her in cheap scotch.

He heard his phone ring in his pocket. With a roll of his eyes, he picked up.

"What?" he barked at his cell.

"Sir, it's Randy."

Dean sighed. The downside of being the bad guy was that there was constantly some stuff to mess up. He'd been smart about it. He knew he couldn't get what he wanted all by himself, so he had gathered a few demons, angry enough to switch sides and side with him, that he had somehow managed not to kill so far. He called that progress. But also, the downside of it was that he never managed to finish a drink.

"What'd you want?" Dean snapped at Randy and he could hear him practically gulping.

"Er, we followed the lead you gave us and we found a handful of demons just outside the town you sent us to."

Dean sighed and rubbed his face.

"Alright," he mumbled. "Stay there and make sure they don't get away, I'm on my way."

He threw a 20-dollar bill next to his glass and made his way out of the bar and into the Impala. His skin itched with the anticipation of the kill, the Mark of Cain throbbing on his arm. A wicked smile spread across his face, but then his vision clouded.

He moaned as pain throbbed just behind his eyes. He rubbed his temples, but it didn't go away.

_Dean,_ he heard a soft whisper, and he let escape a low gasp. He knew this voice. At least, his body did, and it reacted to it, even though he kept telling himself he couldn't care less.

He hated that he was the only demon who didn't get a meat suit. Instead, he was stuck in his old body, his own flesh, trapped within the same chemical reactions in his brain that kept reminding him of Emma Bennett. His wires were toast.

He shook his head, trying to regain focus and get rid of her lingering presence. Yeah, he needed a few fresh kills to get his mind off of it.

A couple of hours later, he parked the Impala a few blocks away from the old house where Randy had told him the demons were hiding. He met his demon minions right behind that house, where they were waiting for him and his instructions.

"What do we got?" he asked them coldly.

"There's at least five or six demons inside," Randy filled him in. "We could've taken them, but we thought we should wait for you."

"Good," Dean said. "Let's go."

They sneaked in through the back door, counting on the element of surprise. Not that Dean had anything to be scared of, though. He couldn't exactly be killed. Blood thirst made his veins throb. He felt the black smoke rise from within him and fill his eyeballs.

To call what happened next a fight would be an exaggeration. The weak-ass demons had no idea what hit them. Dean was swinging his blade mercilessly, and it was over in a matter of seconds. It never ceased to amaze him how alive he felt after a good kill, even if he was mostly dead. Inside, at least.

"Sir, what should we do with this one?" Randy called from behind him.

Dean turned around to see his demons circled around another demon crawled on the floor with his knees to his chest. Hadn't it been for his black eyes and the look of arrogance and fierceness he was trying to pull and failed horribly, he wouldn't have taken him for a demon. Rather a kid who'd happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Dean decided to have his share of fun with him.

"I guess you guys could use some entertainment," he told Randy mockingly. "Y'know, carve out his eyes, cut his tongue, disembowel him. See how long it takes to kill him. We can even place bets."

The kid's eyes widened and every ounce of feigned bravery disappeared from his face.

"N-no," he begged. "No, please! Please, d-don't kill me—"

Dean walked towards him with slow, steady steps, wearing a dangerous smile on his lips. He crouched in front of him.

"Give me one good reason not to," he spoke in a low voice.

"P-please. I'll do anything—"

"Hmm," Dean pursed his lips, pretending to think. "Now what could I possibly want from a worthless piece of trembling garbage."

"I'll do anything—"

"Anything?" Dean prompted him.

The little demon nodded terrified, and Dean propped his angel blade beneath his chin.

"You listen to me, you mongrel. Go back downstairs and tell your king that Dean Winchester is back. And he's coming for his throne."

Dean threw his leather jacket on the back of a chair in the motel room he had rented for the night. He poured himself some scotch and sat on the sofa, planting his feet on the coffee table.

He loved it when things were going according to plan. He was right on schedule. He was a knight of hell, he had quite an army of demons at hand, and Crowley was so far gone he was merely a pawn in this chess game Dean intended to win. He let escape a satisfied groan and closed his eyes as he felt the scotch burn down his throat. Maybe he would've listened to some music, too, but that didn't bring him any satisfaction anymore. Nothing really did, not anymore.

He was already drifting off when it happened. The same hazel eyes. The same silky voice.

_Dean._

He gasped and woke up, breathing heavily and rubbing his eyes. Not this shit again. _Not you again_, he thought. _Go away._

But she didn't. Not this time. He could usually shake off her memory and go back to being himself, clean of her. But she stuck to him this time. She was sinking into veins and tried as he may, he couldn't make himself forget.

He got up and poured himself another glass of scotch. He downed that one and began to pour another one, but then changed his mind and brought to bottle to his lips. He couldn't drown her. _Dean. Dean. Dean. _Her memory burned his mind like a fire and he was sitting within the flames, helpless, his hands tied behind his back.

"Go away," he spoke out loud, running his hands through his hair desperately. "Go away. I don't want you. I don't give a rat's ass about you. Why won't you leave me the hell alone?"

_I'm here to remind you you're still you, Dean, because I love you._

The words kept ringing in his head. They meant nothing to him. These were the words she'd said to him that last night, his brain remembered. The meaning was long gone. He wasn't the same Dean who was with her than night.

But whichever version of himself he was, as hard as he tried to drown it out, her voice was still the soundtrack of human Dean's most vivid dreams, and demon Dean's most infuriating nightmares.

He paced across the room, the bottle of scotch in his hand, trying to breathe in and out calmly. Emma. Emma. Emma. The light of absurd and contagious hope in her eyes. The way her curles fit perfectly around his fingers. The way his lips locked around hers like they were designed to be together. The way her body fit perfectly in his arms. Her smooth, velvet skin, covered in goosemumps to design an exact map of his every touch. _I'm here to remind you you're still you, Dean, because I love you. _Non sense.

Non sense.

He shouted, enraged, and threw the bottle at the wall in front of him. It shattered into pieces, the scotch pouring down along the wall.

Who did this chick think she was? He'd be damned if he'd let some chick flick thoughts stand in this way of his eternal reign over hell. If he couldn't get rid of her memory, he'd have to get rid of the source of the problem.

He smiled wickedly. Oh, yeah. Now this was a plan.

He would march his demons into hell and end Crowley's reign. He would claim the throne of hell and begin a new era of terror. He'd be Dean Winchester, king of hell.

But first, he had to find Emma Bennett and kill her.

**There you go, guys. Chapter 31, nice and fast. Maybe not so nice tho. Sorry not sorry, heheh.**

**I'm sorry it's so terribly short, but as we're getting closer to the end, it's getting harder for me to write. Anyway, I'll try to hurry with the new chapter, where we'll see a beloved new character that we all now and are crazy about. Any guesses?**

**Don't forget to check out my Tumblr for photoshopped pictures and gifs with our characters (supernatural-fanfictional)**

**Lots of love, xoxo**


	33. Chapter 32: Where she went

Everything hurt. The rusty smell of blood and the constant screaming in pain had her on the edge all the time. She was choking on every shackle of chains, every approaching sound of footsteps, on the piercing ringing in her ears, on the sobs that she'd long since discovered they were hers.

She was locked up now. Her flesh intact. It always was when she was in her cage. She was always completely healed after each session of what seemed like endless torture, just so that she could take it all again. Everything was just racks and hooks and razors tearing her skin apart, screams of terror anytime she was taken out of her cage.

She had no idea how long it had passed. Years. Almost 20, maybe. She'd tried to hold on to herself for as long as she could, but eventually, she felt her consciousness slipping away. The self she'd been trying to preserve had long since remained a shadow she left behind in a cage each time she was taken away for all the unfathomable tortures they'd prepared for her.

But every now and then, she remembered. She wasn't just a body to be torn apart and put back together then torn apart over again. In the back of her mind, she ached for the human she used to be. She ached for the warmth of her soul. She ached for hazel eyes, and for the strength of the arms that used to hold her. She ached for the presence of family.

Every now and then, she reached up and her fingers found tears streaming down her face. And a part of herself was disgusted by the weakness she found in those small salty droplets. She knew that someone up there, above this hellhole, would've been terribly disappointed. Would've wanted her to hold on to that last ounce of humanity she had left.

She gripped her hair tightly and pulled, the sobs choking her. But she swallowed them back and pulled the images that kept her sane from the depths of her subconscious.

Her sister.

Dean. His black eyes were the last thing she'd seen before fading away and waking up thrown down here to rot.

Sam.

Sam.

Sam.

There were these moments, these isolated moments when she was able to grasp the concept of being human again. When she was able to go back to who she was, before they took it away again. Before being taken back to racks and hooks and razors.

In these moments, the soundless whispers of his name accompanied each beat of her aching heart. It was a settling, calming rhythm_. Sam. Sam. Sam. _How she longed for him. He was the only reason why she kept coming back to being human, why she kept returning to the all too familiar pain.

For the privilege of remembering him, she had to hold on. She had to know.

She was Melody Bennett. And she was in hell.

They came sooner this time. She hadn't had enough time to recover. She hadn't had the time to fully heal herself, inside out, to properly ink those bits that had come back to her into her flesh, so that they could take the impact of all the blows she was about to get.

She gave a small shriek as the demons pulled her up by her arms, whisking her away brutally.

_She would not let herself break_, she made the same mental promise she had made to herself since day one. And yet, she broke over and over again every day. For nearly two decades now.

_She would not let herself break._

_Sam._

_Sam._

She listened to the steady beat of her heart in the rhythm of his name as they dragged her down hell's pathways. It calmed her down. It was a blessing in a world of damnation. A lullaby.

_Sam._

_Sam._

_I barely remember what he looks like,_ she thought. _He's no more than hazel eyes and soft hair and hands and lips and the bright smile meant only for me to see. But I must remember. I must hold on to him. The day he'll fade, that's the day my last shred of humanity will be lost along with him._

The demon shoved her forward and it occurred to her that this wasn't the way to the torture rooms. Maybe they were taking her to some new, more horrifying punishments. Or maybe they had finally decided to put her out of her misery. Although, that was pretty absurd. She was already dead and in hell. Where else could she go? Complete oblivion seemed like too much of a privilege.

She was taken into a room that was still cold and dark and scary, but it looked like a five-star spa resort compared to the filth she'd seen here. In the middle of it stood a man in a black suit. He would've struck anybody as a harmless, polite and self-assured business man, but the blood lust and coldness in his eyes told other tales. He was a demon, too, Melody thought. And yet a high-rank one.

"She-squirrel," he shot a smile in her direction. "Beloved moose companion. I don't believe we've had the pleasure."

The demons that had her in chains gripped the back of her neck and pushed her down, forcing her into a painful bow that sent her muscles into excruciating pain. She whimpered.

The man in the suit cocked his head. "That won't be necessary, Ronald. If you cherish the shape of your neck, you will release hers."

Melody saw the demon gulp and his eyes widen in terror. She raised her head to look at the man in the suit. Had that been kindness towards her? Unlikely. This was hell, after all.

"Leave us," he ordered his demons and they left without looking back, seeming beyond happy to not be in the same room as him anymore.

Now that they were alone, he looked her up and down with an expression glued to his face that looked like overwhelming boredom. Like he was making her a favor to be granting her his presence.

"Hello, darling," he eventually said. "Name's Crowley."

He looked at her like he expected her to drop on her knees or fangirl, like his name was supposed to be known by each and every worthless ant.

"Doesn't ring a bell," she said, and she cringed at how hoarse and broken her voice sounded. It occurred to her that, for so many years, she hadn't spoken a word. She'd just screamed her lungs out.

Crowley rolled his eyes dramatically.

"So little glory for the King of Hell," he muttered.

King of Hell. Melody would've raised her eyebrows, had she not been so numb. Her human self would've bowed mockingly, extending her arms and smiling wickedly, with that spark in her eyes that held the promise of a future kick in the balls. But for now, her green eyes were just painfully empty. And the flicker of her human self shone too little within her.

"Well, Melody Bennett," he spoke eventually, fixating his cold eyes on her and making her flinch at the sound of her own name on his lips, feeling like a real person for the first time in too long. "Let's get down to business, shall we? I have a proposition for you."

Melody gripped the roots of her hair, pulling tight and trying to steady her breath, to remind herself to stay in line. To not slip. To not lose herself.

"Out of all the twisted tortures you could come up with," she whispered desperately. "This is the sickest one."

She had been able to take anything. She'd been whipped by Sam, by Emma, by Dean, she'd been made to think they had come for her so many times, hope started to taste bitter. But to resort to this… That was just sick.

Crowley dramatically rolled his eyes.

"I'm flattered you would think so," he replied. "But I can't afford losing time. My offer is real and entirely to my advantage."

_I can send you home, _he'd said.

_I can send you home._

_I can send you home._

Home. She was having a hard time remembering how that felt like. And a hard time believing it.

She shook her head, panting. Wishing she'd be back in her cage than listening to one more deceit.

"Why would the King of Hell send back one worthless human?" she made herself ask.

A cruel, icy smile played across his lips. "I would never send back one worthless human. I don't care. Dean Winchester's doppelganger, however…"

She swallowed hard. She'd been such a fool to believe they'd have enough mercy to end her misery somehow. She'd dared to hope for the best. She'd gotten the worst. This was truly the most mischievous trick. Because deep down, in the corners of her mind, she wanted so badly to believe him. To cling to that possibility that she might see her Sam again.

_Sam._

_Sam._

_Sam._

Her heart kept humming the all too familiar song.

Crowley sighed. "Why don't we get this over with, shall we?" he fixated his gaze on her. "Listen closely, Squirrel 2.0. The original Squirrel, you know, the one who killed you, is back to being a demon. You might vaguely recall the black eyes. And he's coming for me. For my throne. And while being a knight of hell, he has a solid chance of taking it. I need you back to the surface so that you can get Moose and Moosette to stop sulking and stop him. And send them my regards for removing the feathery pain that those angels were out of my ass."

Melody was still breathing heavily. For the briefest of seconds, she thought it was actually legit. And she didn't have enough time to question it all over again, because the chains were gone, the ache in her bones was gone and hell faded from view. Instead, she was squatted in a field, the field where she now remembered Sam had taught her how to ride her motorcycle, and she was gasping for air like she was a new born taking her first breath.

Emma, Sam and an all too human Cas were sitting at the table in the library, frustrated beyond compare. There had been 13 days since that 38th day when they'd finally decided to start coping with Mel's death, which meant she was gone for nearly two months now. So they focused on finding and saving Dean.

Needless to say, they weren't exactly successful. They might have waited a tad bit too long. Dean had done an excellent job at covering his tracks, making it clear that he didn't want to be found. And truth be told, Sam and Emma were terrified of the moment they'd have him stand before them.

Emma sighed and rubbed her forehead. The past two weeks hadn't been exactly easy on her. After sealing the angels in Heaven, her grace had already started to boil inside her. But as soon as she'd absorbed Cas' as well, it only got worse. She was made of light. And while it gave her a sense of being completely purified, it blinded her. It blinded her senses. She wanted nothing more than to sleep. A lot. For good. But she owed it to Dean. She owed it to him to set him free.

And yet, however violently it all burned within her, however worn up to the core she felt, she kept going. There was something, maybe a gut feeling, maybe a compulsion of the grace threatening to burst over her edges, but she felt like she was close to whatever purpose her powers held the promise to serve. So this time around, it was all easier to swallow. If only to keep from worrying Sam and Cas even more.

She ran her hands through her hair, frustration written all over their faces. The more time it passed, the less likely it was to be able to save Dean.

Sam opened his mouth to suggest something when they heard a pound. The three of them started. It sounded like someone banged their fists against the bunker door. But it couldn't be, could it? No one knew where the bunker was. At least, no one who was still alive.

They exchanged a look. No one except Dean.

Emma and Sam grabbed guns and the Colt, while Cas grabbed his old angel blade, and the three of them headed towards the door.

"What if it's him?" Emma dared to ask in a small voice.

Sam gulped. "He can't be killed. Shoot now, ask questions later."

She nodded and kept her lips pursed in a tight line. The pounding continued and her heart raced. She realized how far she was from being ready for this moment.

She and Sam nodded at each other and Sam went to open the door.

None of them was ready for it. None of them ever saw it coming. None of them knew how to breathe anymore.

Because as soon as the door was opened, Sam didn't get a chance to aim his gun because in his arms crashed a pale, muddy, thin and shivering Melody.

Melody.

It couldn't be.

Melody.

Emma let out a shaky breath, but she didn't lower her gun. If possible, she gripped it even tighter. Because it really couldn't be. Melody was dead.

Dead.

She was able to say it now. Even though it still hurt. But her sister was dead. The thing that was lying in Sam's arms was a sick monster.

Except it was all wrong. Sam didn't seem to think so. He was panting, brushing the thing's hair away from the face that belonged to Melody.

Because it had to be his Melody. She'd come back to him. His eyes traveled across her silhouette, her face, taking her in, every detail, every inched of her skin, every shape of her body. Melody.

He raised his eyes to Emma, expecting to see her face mirroring his_. Their _Melody was here. But Emma wore a tight, cold expression on her face, gripping her gun so hard, her knuckles had turned white.

"Emma—" he began, breathing heavily.

"Get away from that thing, Sam," Emma spoke fiercely, and Sam flinched at her icy tone. "Let me shoot it in the face."

He knew exactly how she felt. He'd been in her shoes. He knew how it felt to have lost hope up to that desperate point where even the glimpse of it could send you flying back over that edge. Emma didn't dare to even consider the possibility that this was really Melody, that she was really back, and alive. But Sam knew. Dean had come back to him so many times. And he knew exactly how Melody felt under his hands. He knew her smell. The softness of her skin. The shade of her blonde hair.

She was here.

She was alive.

Melody moaned audibly and whimpered, bringing her knees up to her chest and clinging to Sam's shirt. Emma tensed.

"Sam," she spoke, threateningly. "It's not her. Mel's gone. Let. Me. Kill. It."

Cas came behind her and Sam saw him put a hand on her shoulder. It occurred to Sam that he wouldn't have expected Cas to side with him on this one. Emma didn't move under the former angel's touch.

"Emma—" Cas tried.

"You've both gone mad," she barked, anticipating what Cas was about to say to her.

"Emma, think," Cas tried again. "The bunker is warded against the supernatural. She can't have gotten in if it weren't really Melody."

Emma hesitated, but she didn't drop her gun. They had a point. But there was no way. No way to—

Slowly, she opened her eyes. Green eyes the same shade as Melody's. Jade eyes. And she glanced up at them. She smiled at Sam and brought her hand up to touch his cheek. She looked so tormented it hurt to even hold her gaze, Sam thought. But he leaned into her touch anyway, allowing his heart to fully swallow everything he was feeling. And it was a lot. He shivered under her fingertips, his eyes welling up and laughing hysterically down at her.

And then Mel's eyes turned to Emma. Sam didn't know what Emma saw in her sister's eyes. But it was enough to make her eyes go wide and her hands drop the gun. But it wasn't until she heard Mel spoke that she dropped to her knees next to her.

"Surprise, motherfuckers," Mel whispered in a hoarse, broken voice.

**Hey guys! I'm sorry for the delay, but I'll say it was worth it. MEL'S BACK, BITCHEZZZZ! I know there are still some details to clear up, but they'll come.**

**Anyway, there's only one more chapter left and one epilogue. This is it, guys! The end is near. So, I gotta ask. Do you guys have a favorite chapter or a favorite line throughout the story? I'll have to say, my favorite line would be **_**"I was gone for like, two minutes,"**_** and my favorite chapter was the one with Dean and Emma's moon dance. Let me know yours! I'm really curious!**

**Alsoooo (someone stop me from writing these pain in the ass long A.N.'s) because I'm extremely suicidal, I posted a heartbreaking gif on Tumblr (Samdy-related), so if you think you can handle 'dem feelz', feel free to check it out on my Tumblr (supernatural-fanfictional, it's shared as a link), or check it out on Giphy, here ( /gifs/melody-bennett-samdy-my-better-half-l41lWXMMgpH8anKJW?message=uploaded). Hope it works.**

**Phew, I think that's all, ain't it?**

**Lots of love, xoxo**


	34. Chapter 33: Lay your weary head to rest

That evening, Sam lifted Melody in his arms from the entrance of the bunker and he carried her to her old room. She never let go of his shirt. Her head was buried in the crook of his neck and he nuzzled against her hair, breathing her in.

She was barefoot, covered in dirt and sweat, but she still smelled like herself. He didn't mind at all. After seeing her body burn to ashes, he never thought he'd get to hold her again.

So many questions unanswered. They'd given her a hunter's burial. He couldn't wrap his mind around how, why she was still here, back here. And why she was so wrecked. Where had she been these past two months? It broke his heart to see her so helpless, so vulnerable. Melody didn't do vulnerable.

_Not now_, he thought. There was plenty of time. Because she was here. There was enough time to ask questions and answer them.

He opened the door to her room. Everything was untouched. He and Emma had gathered up the courage to go inside, but their hearts couldn't bear to touch anything. They'd long since lost the hope she'd ever come back, but with everything that had used to belong to her still there, they could hold on to the idea that she was still out there in some sort of way. Joke was on them. Because she'd come back.

Sam smiled and closed his eyes, his cheek against her hair. She'd found her way back to him.

He lay her on her old bed, covering her with a blanket. Her eyes were closed. He flinched when he saw her curled in fetal position, her knees to her chest, and he planted a kiss on the top of her head.

He was about to leave the room and let her get some sleep, 'cause she needed it so badly, but she surprised him by catching his wrist. Her thin fingers held on to him, and as he met her eyes, he was taken aback by the emptiness and the torment lingering within them.

"Stay," she whispered.

Sam placed his hand over hers.

"Mel—" he began, not knowing what to tell her. Her grip was so tight, her knuckles had turned white. He wanted her to rest, to sleep it off and wake up the Melody he remembered. He wanted to tell her she'd be okay. But somehow, right now, this felt like a lie.

"Please, Sam," she continued in the same hoarse, broken voice. "I can't be alone."

He nodded stiffly. He refused to think about what that meant. He knew that look on her face. He'd seen it before, on Dean. Once.

But he couldn't think about that. Because if he did, he'd ask her. And she didn't seem too eager to answer.

He circled the bed and sat on the other side of it, near her, but not daring to touch her, against every instinct that went through every fiber of his body. He sat safely away from her, but eventually rolled over to one side just to find her mirroring his position, her eyes traveling across his shape. He caught sight of the glimpse of tears in the dark.

"You should sleep," he brought himself to speak. "You need to rest."

She didn't answer. A couple of minutes later, she brought her hand up reluctantly and traced the shape of his cheekbones with her fingers. Her touch was shaky, but just as soft and tender as he remembered. He talked himself out of closing his eyes and leaning into her touch.

Her fingers explored his features, and her eyes were wide and teary, drinking him in like she was seeing him for the first time. She needed him right now like she needed air. After all you can do is breathe under water, Sam Winchester was like breaking the surface and gasping for air.

"It's really you," her voice broke, and Sam's heart dropped at the implication; it only confirmed what he suspected. "I never thought I'd get to touch you again."

He placed his hand over hers, trapping it over his cheek. "Melody—"

Her name sounded like a prayer now. The way it rolled off this tongue tickled his senses. But her presence… Knowing that this bed held her weight, right now, that they were breathing the same air, it intoxicated him. He hadn't thought he'd get to touch her again either.

"You don't have to say anything," he told her, although he ached for the sound of her voice. He _needed_ her to keep talking, so that it would really register into his head that she was here. He had missed so badly the way her voice resonated with every breath he drew in. "Get some sleep. I'll be here when you wake up."

A tear rolled down her cheek and a glimpse of her desperation slipped through. "You promise?" she whimpered.

Sam removed her hand from his face and he kissed her every knuckle, trying so hard to ignore that her nails were practically plucked out. But that was okay. She'd heal, and he'd be there every step of that way.

"I promise," he said, meaning it with everything he had.

He watched her sleep. He could watch her sleep for days, never getting enough of the sight of her lying next to him.

He watched her sleep for no more than an hour and a half. That's when the screaming started. She was kicking and whimpering and it broke Sam's heart and he couldn't wake her up, no matter how hard he shook her. Eventually, she opened her eyes, and he had to spend several minutes convincing her she was really back, in his arms, alive.

What had they done to her?

Actually, he didn't want to know. He remembered the cage and Lucifer. He remembered how fragile the line between torture and reality was. He remembered how it felt to not be able to grasp the concept of what was palpable. The thought of Melody, of _his_ Melody having to put up with it was unbearable.

She slept for two days, two hours of actual sleep at a time and half an hour of Sam rocking her back and forth. He and Emma took turns at it. But as much as Emma wanted to never leave her sister's side, she knew how Sam felt and gave him the privilege of privacy from time to time.

Towards the end, probably exhausted by all the nightmares, Mel actually got around six or seven hours of sleep and Sam drifted off with her as well.

He woke up with a start a while later, extending his arm scared that she might have vanished from his side. He let out a sigh of relief when his fingers grazed her silhouette. He rolled to one side and found her awake, watching him intently, but calm nonetheless. This was the moment he'd been waiting for, the one he had ached for. Talking to her. So why was he so afraid and self-conscious?

"Sam," she whispered his name like she was testing waters. And perhaps she was. He couldn't know. Except he did.

He extended his arms and brushed a finger across her cheekbone, then brushed a strand of hair away from her face. She felt real under his fingertips. He'd teach her that kind of grounding. So he took her hand gently into his and placed it on his chest, just above his heart, so that she could feel its steady rhythm.

"You were gone," he whispered dumbly, eventually.

She drew in a sharp breath, but then the faintest shadow of a smile played across her lips, barely visible, but there nonetheless.

"Thank you, Captain Obvious," she said, and he found himself chuckling. This woman.

Her smile faltered, though. But it left behind a few traces of his Melody. "I was," she replied. "But not anymore. I'm really back. And I'm really here."

Sam brought her hand to his lips and kissed her palm. "You are. For good."

And then, in an instant, in a quick motion that neither of them was fully aware of or knew who had initiated, they were in each other's arms. Swimming towards each other through an ocean on fire, an ocean of guilt and regret and pain and aching for each other and missing each other and loving each other too much to be able to handle it all at once like this. But their hands knew one another by heart, and stich by stich, everything fell back into place.

"You were gone," he whispered again into her hair.

She held him tighter. She really had been. He'd have no idea how gone. Or how he'd kept her from being entirely gone, for good.

They had no idea for how long they sat like that, there, in her bed, lost in each other completely, until Emma slowly walked into the room and saw them like that. They hadn't even heard her come in until she gasped slightly, making Mel and Sam raise their heads and sit a little up.

"You're awake," Emma told her sister awkwardly, like she didn't know how to react at the prospect of having to actually face her sister after having mourned her for two months and having pointed a gun at her when she came back.

But then Mel shot her sister half a smile, and in the blink of an eye, Emma's arms were around her and she was crying into her neck. Mel let out a breathless shriek at the pain in her ribs, but she chuckled it off. Emma backed away a little.

"I'm sorry," she apologized, wiping away a few tears. "Forgot about that."

"It's okay," Mel spoke hoarsely, then she cleared her voice and tried not to notice the worried look that Sam and Emma exchanged at how she sounded. "I'm just… a little sore."

She found herself meaning it. When Crowley had teleported her ass back over here, she was still marked by all those years of torture. She'd expect weeks, months of recovery after that. But there was no sign of the all too familiar ache in her every joint, or the burning sensations all over her skin, or the feeling that every breath took an overwhelming amount of effort. She was just a little numb, like after jogging with Sam. She smiled at the memory and a long lost warmth spread all over her body.

"I healed you," Emma told her, having guessed her thoughts. "You were pretty messed up."

Melody noticed the straight line of her sister's lips and she knew that both she and Sam wanted to ask her. To ask her about something that she wanted to forget with every bone in her body. Her sister and Sam saw her shoulders tense and her fingers pull at the sheets anxiously.

Sam placed his hand over hers and she felt his pleading eyes on her. "Please," he whispered, and Mel knew he was keeping his composure for her sake. She owed him at least the same.

She turned to him and bit back her tears. "I'm sure you both guessed it by now," she told them, avoiding saying the words.

Sam and Emma exchanged a look, and paused for a moment, clearly having talked about it beforehand. Mel felt the panic building inside her at the mere recollection of what she'd lived as Sam spoke.

"You were in hell."

Her throat tightened as her eyes welled up as she nodded. She gritted her teeth and refused to cry anymore. She was out. She needed to rebuild herself from to the core, up to the sister Emma deserved and the Melody Sam had fallen in love with.

"You don't have to talk about it you don't want to," Sam squeezed her hand.

"We just want to know how you got out," Emma added a moment later, and even though Mel wanted to put away those thoughts, she knew that they needed to know.

She took a deep breath and remembered the conversation with Crowley. It came back to her in bits and pieces, a little smoked out. Through the fog, she recalled one part, though.

"Where's Dean?" she asked out of nowhere, desperate to believe she was remembering it wrong.

She frowned and looked towards the door. Dean was her best friend. He should have been right here, mocking her and calling her Rapunzel and getting on her nerves. Sam and Emma exchanged a glance. No. No way.

"You don't remember?" Emma asked cautiously.

"Of course I remember," Mel snapped. "Crystal clear. I also remember you saying, no, you guys _promising_ him you'd find a way to save him. So tell me you did."

She looked at them accusingly, feeling too tired to snap as violently as she would've liked, but angry enough to get through to them.

"Well?" she demanded. "Are you going to tell me you weren't morons enough to not be able to realize that Dean wasn't really the one who killed me? Can you tell me you had the common sense to fight for him?"

"Mel—" Sam began, but Melody could read the guilt on his face. She ran her hands through her hair.

"Oh my God," she exclaimed. "But you were. Crowley was right."

Emma frowned, but it was clear that the name rang a bell for Sam, because he looked at her wide-eyes.

"What's Crowley got to do with this?" he questioned.

Mel sighed and closed her eyes. "He shoved me back into my body and sent me here. He said Dean's coming for his throne. And that we gotta stop him."

Emma and Sam let the information sink in.

"But, Mel," Emma looked at her sister. "He couldn't have shoved you back into your body. We burned your body. Hunter's burial."

Mel shrugged. "King of Hell mojo," she answered simply, and Emma's eyes widened; maybe she should've mentioned the King of Hell part earlier. "Anyway, I thought it sounded fishy at first."

"Damn right it does," Sam chimed in. "Crowley doesn't do favors. Even if his throne is threatened. He's capable of handling it himself."

Mel shook her head. "So you would think. But Crowley said Dean's a knight of hell, Sam, and this is his second chance at being a demon. I bet he's a lot more powerful, if he got Crowley shaking in his pants. And I thought he was overreacting, when he said you guys needed to be pulled back together, but it's clear you're greater messes than me."

Emma and Sam glared, but they knew she was right. Count on Mel to come back from hell broken and set her mind on fixing them. She intertwined her fingers with Sam's and shot her sister half a smile.

"Let's go get our guy back."

Dean was so close, he could smell rotten corpses at his feet when he'd rest on the throne of hell. He shivered at the prospect of his soon-to-be reign. He couldn't wait to make the world feel some real terror for a change.

But there were things he needed to handle first.

He couldn't rule his kingdom knowing there was a lingering pain in the ass out there, waiting around the corner to get their hands on him and hug the evil out of him. No, he'd learned his lesson. That wasn't bound to happen any time soon, not again.

Fool me once, shame on me. Fool me twice…

Yeah, well, stuff like that. Point is, he wanted to have the upper hand this time around. Emma and Sammy wanted to play hide and seek, fine. He'd give them a game to remember.

He knew they were on his tail. He'd managed to hide his tracks fairly well so far, making sure there was no way for him to be found. Which was, making sure no one lived enough to say they'd seen him. So all he had to do was to switch strategies. He'd lure them in.

He made sure every track led them to him, here, to this warehouse.

He'd wait for them for as long as it took. He had all the time in the world. Eternity.

Their time, on the other hand, was limited. He counted their minutes one by one, until the time when he'd spill the blood of his brother and of the woman who claimed to love him, and complete his full transition to being the evil creature he'd been born to be. Dean Winchester was nobody's fool.

**Okay, guys, this is it. The last chapter per say, before the epilogue. The calm before the storm, before the last battle. Mel's back and kicking, and they're onto Dean. But Dean's onto them to. Geesh, I'm so excited to be writing the ending! I really hope you'll enjoy it.**

**Don't forget to check out my Tumblr for gifs and photoshopped pictures (supernatural-fanfictional).**

**Lots of love, xoxo**


	35. Epilogue: Salvation

Down an empty highway, a car drove straight ahead. The road was uncertain. It could lead to death, it could lead to loss, it could lead to more grieving, it could lead to salvation. But for once, this time around, the three passengers in the car were able to cling to some sort of hope.

"You okay?"

Emma rolled her eyes at her sister's inquiry. "For the hundredth of time, I'm fine."

"You look tired," Mel replied, trying to justify her question.

"Have you seen yourself in a mirror?" Emma mused, smiling at her sister to let her know she was teasing her. "Next to you, I look like a freaking Disney princess."

"Charming," Mel scowled at her older sister.

"How're _you_ feeling, Mel?" Sam turned it around on her, and Mel threw her hands up in the air.

"I swear, if I'm asked that question one more time, I'm gonna punch someone. I need to stretch my muscles."

Emma and Sam chuckled. It was sort of true. Mel had made a spectacular recovery in the little time they'd had to find Dean. It had only been a few days, but the more she acknowledged that she as really back, alive, safe, in Sam's arms, the more it pushed her forward. Emma knew her sister. Now, more than ever, Melody was unstoppable. And she and Sam were so mind-blowingly happy, it made her dizzy.

But the spell didn't last long. They were only granted a few days of peace and quiet, of silently longing for their Dean to have been with them and constantly looking for him. They couldn't really rely on Cas' help anymore, now that he was human, but still, they located him. After hearing that he'd been sighted in a small town near Denver, it had only been a matter of time until they tracked him down. It was almost too easy. They knew that. But they had to take the chance. They had to save Dean. And they had yet to figure out how, too.

"You know what I don't get?" Melody eventually broke the silence they had fallen into. "Why? Why would he turn into a demon all of a sudden? Why now? He was fine. He was happy." She shot a look to Emma, who blushed deeply.

Yeah. He'd been pretty happy. Emma had asked herself that same question time and again. She'd been over it so many times, it had cost her so many sleepless nights for the past couple months. She couldn't wrap her head around it. She'd been so certain Dean was finally safe in her arms. That they could fight this. That she was enough to get him past this. In a way, she blamed herself for not being enough. Perhaps there could've been a way to keep him next to her. She'd never know, though, not anymore, not really.

Sam cleared his throat. "I've talked about it with Cas," he said. "It bugged me, too. The last time he went demon, he'd been killed beforehand. Cas' best guess was that this time around, it had enough time to build up to it. All that darkness, swallowed up, buried deep, pushed down to the point when he couldn't handle it anymore."

"The fight triggered it," Emma murmured, so low she didn't know if they'd heart her, but Sam and Mel's heads shot towards her. "When he arrived at the playground after the fight and I was hurt, he lost it. Badly. I barely managed to bring him back. Then we had a pretty ugly argument. We said things. I think that was the point of no return."

"But you brought him back from that edge," Mel spoke softly, carefully tip-toeing around it because she knew how hard it must've been for her sister to talk about it. "So what pushed him over it?"

Emma shrugged helplessly. "I think he was freefalling all along. There wasn't an edge. I was there for him and helped him through the freefall before he hit rock bottom."

The three of them felt the weight of her words after that and fell into deep silence. Each one of them missed and needed Dean in their own separate ways.

Bringing him back was a matter of luck and circumstance. They had no plan. They pretty much relied on being able to capture him, using Mel being alive as an element of surprise, and hoping that the three of them would be enough to overpower him. And then they relied on Emma's abundant grace to use on him and see if it somehow cleared the demon out of him. But they were all shots in the dark. All they had at the moment was raw hope.

However, Emma felt her grace calling to her. She wasn't sure what it meant, but she had her theory that she didn't dare to share with Melody and Sam, that this was what she was supposed to do. That this had been her purpose, somehow. She was reluctant about getting her hopes up, but she forcefully wanted to believe that she was the one who could save him, that all this power that ate her alive was a meaning to an end. And she really hoped that this meaning to an end would lead to the man she loved, safe and sound and good-hearted like she knew him. She hoped it provided his salvation.

He was blinded by bloodlust. He knew she must have been close. His fingers twitched around the angel blade he was holding. He felt no remorse. Once the decision had been made that he'd have to be the one who ripped her apart, he no longer saw Emma's eyes. He no longer heard her voice calling to him.

And that was good. Because with the ghost of her gone from the back of his mind, everything was dark and cold. And darkness and coldness were good. He'd ceased being Emma Bennett's Dean full of hope and kindness long ago. He was now a creature of darkness and coldness, and he enjoyed it. He was beyond redemption. He was beyond salvation. And he couldn't wait for that to be the last thing she realized before dying.

The tracks led Sam and the Bennett sisters to an empty warehouse. Dean had to be here, the Impala parked in front of it proved so. It was time.

They sat in the car, in utter silence, long after the engine stopped. The moment was here, but they weren't ready for it. They had to take it, but they didn't know how. Each one of them was fighting some inner battle but eventually, in sync, three pairs of eyes met and they knew it had been agreed upon. They were going in.

The three of them walked out of the car, led by the sound of their heartbeats into the dark warehouse. They'd braced themselves for the view; it couldn't be nice. They pulled out the Colt and the angel blades, praying to whichever God may have existed or may have listened that it wouldn't come to using them.

They circled the warehouse, taking in the surrounding and never letting their guard down. Eventually, they found a small entrance in the back they hoped would give them at least a bit of an element of surprise. Though, by now, they were fairly sure that Dean knew they were here. It was too easy.

Taking in a deep breath, their gazes met again. They nodded at each other and stepped inside the warehouse.

His lips curled into a devious smile. They were here.

"'Twas about time you showed up," Dean's voice echoed, as he was pacing back and forth in the middle of the warehouse.

Hidden in the darkness, Emma's breath caught in her throat. This wasn't her Dean. His tone was harsh and filled with a cruelty she never knew could exist in him and he sounded wicked and merciless, but it was his voice. The voice that called her 'short stuff' followed by the cute way the corners of his eyes wrinkled when he smiled, the voice that whispered her name like he didn't want to taint it. It may not have been him, but it definitely sounded like him.

"Come on, Emma, don't be a pouter," he called, and Emma had to cover her mouth with her hands to muffle a small whimper. Her eyes stung with tears. "I promise I'll end Sammy quickly and you and I are gonna have some fun of our own."

It was now or never. They couldn't stall any longer. It's not like it was gonna get any easier now. So the three of them stepped out of their hideouts and stood before him, each one facing the portrayal of a personal nightmare.

It took him aback. He _was_ eager to kill, that was for sure. So when she stepped out and as she stood before him, he expected the red, he expected the bloodlust, he expected the anger.

They didn't come, not right away.

The red he'd been seeing was twitching around the edges and having those pained green eyes gazing into his brought back an old instinct. Back in his humanity days, he'd trained himself to anchor himself to her, to focus on her beauty every time he started seeing red. And the instinct kicked in. Because she was still fucking beautiful.

He pulled himself together quickly, though. Demons don't know beauty. He needed to spill her blood asap to remind himself that.

But then his eyes shifted slightly to the left and widened a little.

Huh. Would you look at that.

Emma gulped as she took in the emotions on his face. She held her breath as she saw his eyes travel across her silhouette with an expression glued to his face that looked like a mixture of cold blood, of lust, of awe. Her soul felt naked before him. She realized that she hadn't, and couldn't ever stop loving him. All along, it had all been about coming to terms with the fact that she needed him back so badly it hurt.

But any sight of emotion left his face so quick she wasn't sure it was ever there. Then his eyes found Melody and widened slightly.

Emma's lungs burned, because she couldn't remember how to breathe anymore. She clung to the hope that seeing Melody would flip some switch in him that would allow them to rescue him from himself.

But then, his lips curled into a cruel smile and they lost all hope.

"Rapunzel," he called, grinning in a way that sent a cold shiver down Emma's spine. "Good to see you. I'll enjoy the hell out of sending your ass back to the pit."

Melody flinched, but her eyes threw daggers at his head. She wasn't angry at him, not at all. She was furious with however the universe decided to work so that they ever had to land in this situation when, whatever choices you made, you wouldn't be able to live with it eventually.

"Dean," Sam spoke in a low voice, staring at his brother pleadingly. "Please. This isn't you. We can fix this. We'll figure it out. We always do."

Dean tilted his head and pursed his lips, mockingly considering Sam's request. He was so self-assured, the three of them were frozen in place. He was too confident in his strength and in his odds that they started doubting their own.

"Nah, I'll pass," he shrugged eventually. "That's the problem, Sammy. We never do." His expression darkened even deeper and Emma gulped when she realized he was about to make a move. "We never figure it out. That's what made me a demon and what'll get you dead at my hands."

He then took a step forward and Emma couldn't take it. She couldn't stand in front of him waiting to see who he'd kill first. This was her fight, her goal. Sam and Mel couldn't be in the way.

"Wait, no," she shouted and stepped forward, too, under her sister's and Sam's heavy gazes. "Leave them be. I'm the one you want."

She was going on a blind guess, assuming his main interest was dealing with her, but if she could at least induce it to him for long enough to spare Mel and Sam, she was fine with it.

"Damn right, you are," he muttered, his eyes lingering on her mischievously. "So I gank them first and you and I gon' have this party started."

Emma pursed her lips and lifted her chin, trying to keep herself steady on her feet. She felt the tension slowly building up inside her and she knew that her powers were calling out to her. She didn't know what good they'd make other than reading his aura, which was beyond grey this time; it was a smoke cloud. Black and filthy.

But somewhere, she saw a tiny flicker. It was small, and she squinted her eyes as she struggled to see, but it was there. A spot of soft, clear blue, fighting through the smoke, pulsating weakly. But it was there. Emma fought a smile and tried to keep the explosion of blind hope surging through her to herself. But her grace resonated with that emotion and she knew that she could do this. She had the means.

"Emma—" Sam began reluctantly and the tension and fear in his voice were obvious.

"No," Emma barked at Sam and Melody. "Stay out of this. Get back. This is between me and him." She looked Dean straight in the eye, daring him, and her grace boiled within her. "You and me, Dean. It ends now."

He shot her a dark grin. "Fine by me. But tell me one thing, short stuff."

Emma's heart skipped a beat at him using her old nickname, but she didn't allow herself to lose focus. He saw Dean pull out his blade before resuming his sentence.

"You really think you're enough to take me down?" he asked, not looking at her, a bored expression glued to his features as he tested the edge of the blade with his thumb. "I can't be killed."

As he spoke those last words, he looked up and met her gaze, desire to kill clear in his eyes. But Emma was past the point when she could let herself be intimidated by any of that crap. So she found her lips curling into a small, sad, hopeful smile and her feet moving.

"Emma—" Melody whispered, mirroring Sam's tone from earlier, but Emma ignored them. There was nothing but the two of them now, in the eye of the hurricane in which their journey had resulted.

Emma walked slowly towards him and he watched her body sway, and she could see once again those conflicting emotions fighting for dominance in his eyes. In the end, bloodlust won, but that was okay. She kept on keeping her eyes on the flickering blue spot in his aura, reassuring her that she could pull this off or die trying.

She finally stopped in front of him, her eyes merely inches from his.

"I don't wanna kill you, Dean," she whispered, her breath hitting his cheek and her eyes glistering with tears, her lips slightly curled into the beginning of a smile.

He replied to her smile with one wicked one of his own, his jaw tightened.

"That makes one of us," he answered. No sooner had a second passed than he lifted his arm so fast she didn't even see it coming and the cold, sharp edge of his blade was pressed against her neck. "See, I _am _gonna kill you."

Emma lifted her chin and never lost his gaze, not even flinching. Dean found himself slightly frustrated. It would've been more fun to feed on the fear in her eyes. But he'd take what he could get.

The she did the craziest thing. He saw her lips move and form the words, but they didn't really register right away. The smoke clouding his vision wasn't exactly accustomed to the concept of what she implied.

"I love you, Dean," he realized she was saying and blinked in confusion.

She took advantage of his momentary daze and tentatively put her hand over his hand that was holding the blade to her throat. She felt him flinch at her touch and allowed herself a small victorious smile, the grace inside her begging to be released, but then his muscles tensed and she saw him clench his jaw.

"I don't care, Emma," he growled. "Don't be stupid. That love of yours can't fix me. I don't wanna be fixed."

A small tear escaped her cheek and she never stopped smiling. It frustrated him to no end. He wanted to wipe that smug smirk off her face. He wanted to press the blade even harder against her skin and slit her throat once and for all. But the feel of her skin against his kept his hand frozen in place.

Emma realized that his words were harsh and the intent to kill and blood thirst was still there, but he hesitated. That hesitation was vital. That hesitation encouraged her to bring her other hand up and place it over his cheek. He froze and his eyes flared with anger and confusion, and he didn't move a muscle.

"You're wrong," she whispered, and as the words escaped her lips, it all snapped.

It was like pulling the trigger. The bent of a finger, the boom, the explosion, the speed, the impact. It was just like that. It was like something inside her snapped and there was nothing but light. She was warm, and tingling, it was like every inch on the surface of her body was burning with purity and brightness and it flowed through her and radiated out of her.

And suddenly, everything made sense.

Emma closed her eyes and, as Dean's hand twitched around the blade, her emotions sharpened around the edges and she realized that she had always been the one who was meant to save Dean Winchester. Her whole life, her every choice, her every thought and her every action had been a premise of getting him to safety from himself.

Because they were two halves of different wholes. They weren't meant to complete each other, they were meant to balance each other out.

Right now, Emma realized, it was as if every moment, from the moment they'd met, had somehow led to this one. Salvation.

Emma opened her eyes and took the scenery in. She and Dean were just two psychedelic silhouettes in a snowstorm of light that was washing both of them clean. Dean's eyes were closed and she wished it hadn't been this way, she wished she could see the smoke slowly dissipating to reveal those two green irises as he'd look at her and give in to her light.

He dropped the blade and Emma held on to his hand and to his cheek until his knees gave in and he collapsed into her arms.

She was pouring her whole soul into it. She now knew the purpose. The whole meaning of this whole thing. The grace that had slowly almost burned her alive was meant for him. They'd been sweating over how to save him, over how to find a cure, and they didn't realize that Emma herself was the cure. Her powers were the definition of purity, her powers were light. The Mark of Cain on Dean's arm was foul, vicious darkness. They cancelled each other out. Light clears out the dark.

So Emma let all of her light pour into him, filling him with it until the Mark on his arm slowly glowed its way into oblivion. It faded. They were sitting on the cold hard ground of the warehouse, her holding him in her arms, both wrapped into a bright aura.

Sam and Melody stood a few feet away from them, mesmerized, trying to wrap their heads around what they were seeing. Trying to figure out whether they should intervene. But the light slowly died out and they were beginning to make out the two silhouettes. They took a few steps closer and, as they took in the scenery and realized what was going on, their hands found each other and they intertwined their fingers. They smiled at each other victoriously.

On the ground sat a graceless Emma. She gave every single ounce of her light to save Dean, who was now sitting wrapped in her tight embrace, his eyes still closed. Emma's cheeks were soaked with tears, but she wasn't exactly sure why she was crying.

And then, slowly, his eyes lids fluttered and he opened his eyes. She held her breath for a second before his eyes were wide open and she was greeted by the emerald green eyes she loved, glowing with the light she had provided. He brought his hands up and ran a thumb across her jaw, watching her mesmerized.

They shared a smile full of love and unspoken words.

And in the end, you couldn't tell who saved whom.

_**~~THE END~~**_

**This is it, guys. The end. I'm sorry it was sort of delayed (okay, hella delayed), but I'll admit I kinda stalled. I hate that it had to end. I can't tell you how much I enjoyed writing it and how much I got attached to Mel and Emma and to every single one of my readers.**

**I'm gonna miss it, and I'm gonna miss y'all. I'll soon post a chapter with the playlist of the whole story and another one with links to all the gifs and photoshopped pics that I've made, that you can also found on my Tumblr blog (supernatural-fanfictional).**

**I'd love to see some reviews in which you could let me know your over-all opinion on this story, like favorite chapters, moments, lines. A moment of silence for My Better Half, please. It's been a wonderful journey!**

**Love you all!**

**xoxo**

**P.S. I'd like to dedicate this story to my little sister. Laura, this was all for you. I wrote it for you. She's the one that inspired Melody and she's the one that suggested I write this once I mentioned what was then just an idea. And I kept writing it just for her. So thank you, honey! **


	36. AN

Hey, guys! Long time, no see, huh? I really missed you, and I really miss writing on this story! And I terribly miss my characters.

If you guys miss me, too (oh boy, I hope you do), I recently started working on another story. It's not fanfiction and it's posted on fictionpress, original characters and all that. The plot is captivating and I've got a lot in store for it, so if you'd like a nice love story, go to my profile and click the link in the description.

_He didn't know her name, or where she came from or what her life was like. He knew but two things about her – she held the sky captive in her eyes, and he loved her hopelessly, deeply, endles_sly.

P.S. I know I'm long overdue a playlist for you guys, but I never got around to it. I'm working on it and I'll upload it asap. Lots of love, xoxo


	37. AN: Playlist

Hey guys! It's me again!

I know I'm long overdue a playlist for you, so here goes. I tried to point out specific moments or parts when you can listen to some of the songs, and if not, at least for you to think of our beloved characters when you listen to these songs. I gotta say so myself, I miss them and it's been a hell of a journey.

Therefore…

3OH!3 – Bad guy (good for Demon Dean moments, trust me)

AC/DC-Back in black

Ben Cocks – So cold

Birdy – Let her go (Passenger cover, perfect for the chapter when Melody dies)

Birdy – Not about angels (the song for Cas and Emma)

Brian Buckley Band – I am human

Christina Perri – Human

Zedd ft. Foxes – Clarity

Nick Vujicic – I know there's something more (I think there's a Dean fan made video on youtube on that song)

Def Leppard – Pour some sugar on me (for all the Melody/motorcycle shippers out there)

Imagine Dragons – Demons

Fall Out Boy – Jet pack blues

The Fray – How to save a life

Gabrielle Aplin – Salvation (Demma team, bitches)

Hunter Hayes – I want crazy (because, let's get real, this is Melody we're talking about)

James Bay – Hold back the river (listen to this on the scene when Emma leaves Dean behind as she goes to fight the angels on her own and she has to knock him out)

Kari Kimmel – Black

Kodaline – All I want

Maroon 5 – Animals (okay, I strongly disagree with the message of the song, but there's a great electric guitar cover on youtube by Kfir Ochaion that goes perfectly with the intense scenes with Mel and Sam)

Michael Malarkey – Feed the flames (Samdy theme, bitches)

Michael Malarkey – The bells still ring

Blake Shelton – Mine would be you (poor Sammy coping with Mel's death)

Miranda Lambert and Carrie Underwood – Something bad (Bennett sisters badassery style)

August Rush Soundtrack – Moon dance (from the moon dance scene, duh)

Noah Gundersen – Poor man's son (post Mel's death chapter)

Porcelain Black – One woman army (for when Mel shows up and saves Mel asses, heheh, _Surprise, motherfuckers_)

Rascal Flatts – Come wake me up (for that chapter with Demon Dean remembering Emma)

Steven Stern – Soul of a man (Demon Dean again)

Twinbed – Trouble I'm in

Tyler Ward – Red

The White Striped – Seven nation army (Dubstep version)

Madilyn Bailey – Wildest dreams

Okay, guys, hope you'll enjoy these!

Don't forget little me has recently started a new original story that you can find on Fictionpress, Wattpad and Quotev. It's called Light Up My Sky, added under the username dianesky. You can find a link on my profile.

Summary: He didn't know her name, or where she came from or what her life was like. He knew but two things about her – she held the sky captive in her eyes, and he loved her hopelessly, deeply, endlessly.

That was it, I guess.

See ya, guys!

Lots of love, xoxo


	38. AN2

Hey, you guys!

Long time no see, eh?

Anyway, I just dropped by to let you know I have some pretty great fan-made videos (improperly called so, since they can't be fan-made if _I _made them, but these are mere technicalities) for the couples in "My Better Half" and for the story itself.

You can find the links on my profile, feel free to check them out.

Also, don't forget to take a peak at my new original story, "Light Up My Sky", link's also in the description.

Love you guys, and I hope y'all miss Mel and Emma and the boys as much as I do!

Lots of love,

xoxo


	39. AN-OPEN REQUESTS

Hey, you guys!

Yep, still me. Turns out I can neither let go, nor move on from "My Better Half"

Which is why I've started taking requests! Yaaay! Both reader inserts and/or Sam/Mel &amp; Dean/Emma inserts, for those of you who miss the Bennett girls.

Anyway, feel free to drop requests, and keep 'em coming! You can either PM me here, on fanfiction, or send an ask on my Tumblr blog (supernatural-fanfictional)

Love you guys!

xoxo


	40. S E Q U E L

THIS IS NOT A DRILL, I REPEAT, THIS IS NOT A DRILL.

KEEP CALM EVERY ONE, A "MY BETTER HALF" SEQUEL IS HAPPENING.

Okay, are we calm?

Good.

Then here, fellas. Have a summary.

_The Mark of Cain is gone. Dean is saved and Melody is back, but the four hunters are far from being safe. With Dean struggling between his love for Emma and an insatiable attraction for Amara, and with Mel seeking both answers and revenge for what she went through in Hell, it turns out salvation doesn't always mean happy ending._

I AM SO EXCITED ABOUT THIS.

Okay, keeping calm. So calm.

I have missed them so much.

So, who's with me, fellas?

The story's called Make Me Whole Again, and you can find it on my profile.

Going once,

Going twice...

AAAAAAAAAAAND?...


End file.
